"Tosh!!!" Emmy shouted as she bounded down the front porch steps. Chris looked up, his preoccupied face brightening when he caught a glimpse of Emmy.

"Hi, Soleil," he said shyly, wondering why he suddenly felt tongue-tied in her presence. Now of all times.

Emmy bit her lip anxiously. Wasn't Chris glad to see her? Didn't he miss her? Being away from him all day long had made her quite giddy at the mere sight of him. Maybe he didn't like that. Her beautiful silvery eyes filled with unshed tears. Maybe he didn't miss her as much as she missed him.

She peered up at him, her breath catching. "Bet you made lots and lots of new friends, huh?"

He stared at her in disbelief. All he'd thought about all day was coming home. Coming home and seeing her. New friends? What was wrong with the old ones?

"No," he replied softly.

Emmy was too lost in her own pain to realize what Chris said. "Bet you…um…forgot me," she said sadly, feeling as though her heart was breaking.

Chris registered the tears in her eyes and never spared another thought for what misunderstanding Emmy might have gotten hold of. Holding out his arms to her, he entreated, "Come here, Soleil."

She almost ran into his embrace, and his arms closed around her tiny body. She sobbed against his chest, though he really didn't know why, and he murmured to her in French. "Please don't cry, Soleil," he begged, feeling dangerously close to losing control of his own somewhat frayed emotions.

It had been a very long day. For everyone. Those who went to school. Those who stayed behind. "I missed you, Princess Em."

She hiccuped loudly, then looked into his clear blue eyes, so like his mother's. "Y-you d-did?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding the entire time. The academy was not that far away in terms of miles. But in every other way that mattered, it might as well be light-years away.

A smile lit up Emmy's face, banishing the tears. "You really did miss me, Tosh?"

"So much." You have no idea. Chris was reduced to near-monosyllables. It was as if his head and his mouth refused to cooperate with one another.

He hugged her as tight as he could before releasing her finally. "Come on inside, I have a lot to tell you," he eventually managed to say.

James looked out the second-story window of Madeline's house. He could just make out the figures of Chris and Emmy on the front lawn next door. "They're so…sweet together," he commented with a soft sigh. Smoke stood directly behind James, his arms wrapped around his upper body. He looked over James' shoulder, in the direction of where James' gaze was fixed. "Yeah, they are."

"Sometimes…" James began, but he never finished his thought. Smoke's head came up off James' shoulder, frowning. "What?"

"Oh, never mind, it'd sound stupid," James shrugged dismissively.

Smoke wanted to contradict James, but he remained silent. He had a feeling he knew what James was thinking. There was a long pause, but it never grew uncomfortable. The two lovers shared their silences much the way they shared everything else.

"I wish…" James started again.

"You wish what, sweetie?" Smoke coaxed. "That you had kids of your own?"

James' face flamed bright red. Smoke sighed. So his guess was on-target. Almost.

"That we had kids of our own, yeah," James whispered. "Stupid, huh?"

"Non," Smoke answered. "I would give them to you if I could, Jamie. You know 'ow much I love you."

"Yeah…" James turned and gave Smoke a quick kiss, but his smile died immediately afterwards. "I love you, too, Pete. And I wouldn't trade what we have for anything. But sometimes…"

"You want what you can't 'ave. I know."

"Do you ev-ever wish that—" James stuttered.

"No," Smoke shook his head without hesitation. "It's part of what we gave up to be who we are, Jamie. If I wished that—"

Smoke slid his face along the side of James' neck, closing his eyes. "It would be like wishing I never met you. Or loved you. 'ow could I wish for anything to be different?"

"Yeah…" James whispered.

Smoke kissed his neck and his shoulder lightly, and James pulled on Smoke's arms, wrapping them even more tightly around him. "I'm glad you're with me, Pete."

"I'll always be with you, Jamie."

"What is this, a seance? Why are you all sitting here in the dark, holding hands?" Walter asked gruffly. He wasn't about to tell anyone just how quiet or how lonely the house had seemed with most of the kids away. Well, maybe he would tell Miranda. His Honey knew how to keep a secret with the best of them.

"Ssh," Birkoff hissed, a hint of a laugh in his voice. "We're bonding."

"You're what?"

Declan broke the chain of hands for one brief moment and offered Walter his hand. "Join us."

"What kind of cockamamie nonsense is this?" Walter snorted. "Sorry, Declan," he said, rejecting Declan's offer, "but I just don't feel that way about you, man."

James' voice came out of the darkness. "It's not what you think, Walter. We're all here. Grown-ups and kids alike."

"Holding hands?"

"Aye," Declan agreed.

Walter peered into the darkness of the dining room, his eyes finally beginning to adjust, and he could barely make out people's faces. "Michael!" he said, obviously surprised to see him there. "You believe in this claptrap, too?"

Nikita answered for her husband. "Dad, sit down and join us. We're not doing voodoo or chanting 'Om' or trying to feed the inner child. Honest. We're just…" She looked at her husband for help, the words suddenly finding their way into her mouth.

"We're celebrating being us. Being a family. That's all."

Walter looked suspiciously at the woman he called daughter. "Sugar, are you sure about this? Maybe I should ask Honey—"

"Walter, get your ass over here, sweetcheeks!" Miranda's voice cut across the dimly lit room.

Walter found his wife with considerable alacrity and sat down. Hard. "Hi, Honey."

Miranda joined hands with Walter, and he looked to his other side, finding that his other partner was none other than…Davenport. "Dav!"

"None other," Davenport replied with a barely contained chuckle.

"Jeez, is everyone here?"

"Aye," said Derry, sitting on the other side of her husband.

"Hey, Derry, what's up, sweetheart?" He hadn't seen Derry for a long time. Between their attempts to make a life for themselves on the outside and their infant twins, Derry and Davenport had precious little time to share.

Declan whispered, "Ssh…you're breaking our concentration."

Derry stuck out her tongue at her brother, glad for the cover of darkness now. She didn't want to start a family feud.

Budt leave it to the children to cut to the heart of things. "Are we done yet?" Sasha whined.

"I'm tired, Mom," wailed Faith.

"I'm hungry," said Chris.

"The cat wants to eat dinner, Da," whispered Emmy loudly into the suddenly silent room.

"She does, eh?" Declan asked with a brilliant smile. He loved that little girl, and he didn't care how sappy it sounded, he thought she was aptly nicknamed by Chris. She was a little ray of sunshine.

Birkoff sighed. "I think Zero and his missus could use a hearty snack, too, if you ask me."

Just then a baby started to cry. The chain broke apart. Nikita looked across the table at her adoptive mother. "Yours or mine?"

Madeline shook her head. "That's not Kady's cry. Must be Luc."

Derry smiled into the blackness. "Somebody get the lights. It's Kiarra. And any minute now, Jago's going to join her."

"Did you bring the bottle, darlin'?"

"Nope, I'll just borrow the bathroom for about a half hour or so. You don't mind, do you, Nikita?"

"Not at all. Unless you'd be more comfortable in one of the bedrooms?"

"No, I'll be fine. You coming, Jake?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, darlin'."

When the lights came back on, Davenport picked up their son Jago while Derry picked up their daughter Kiarra. Nikita pointed to the main staircase. "You remember where the bathroom is upstairs, don't you?"

Davenport laughed. "How could we forget? You guys put up with us for what, forever?"

Nikita cuffed Davenport lightly on the jaw. "Nah, just seemed that way," she quipped.

James cleared his throat softly. "Guess Pete and I better head on back to our apartment."

Nikita heard a certain wistfulness in James' voice and responded automatically. "Not unless you've got something urgent cooked up for this evening. You're more than welcome to have dinner with us here. In fact, you could even help us get some of these kids to bed, if you wouldn't mind."

Smoke glanced at James, his eyes revealing what he wouldn't say. She's reading your mind, baby. It's like she knows exactly what you need right now. James gave Smoke a startled look, his cobalt blue eyes flashing momentarily. "That…ahem…that would be wonderful, Nikita. Really."

James sounded matter-of-fact, but his emotions were closer to the surface than he knew. He put his arm around Smoke, unconsciously leaning on the slightly older man for support. "Can me and Pete give you a hand in the kitchen, Nikita?"

"Nope, already taken care of. Declan's on the case tonight. He knew I was pining away for his cooking, and he volunteered. Didn't you, Declan?" Nikita grinned openly at Declan, as if defying him to say any different.

Declan looked surprised, but only for a moment. "I did? Aye, I did. That's right, you wanted something special. In honor of the kids' first day of school."

Now it was Nikita's turn to look surprised. "Declan, you didn't!"

Declan smiled mysteriously. "I'm afraid so."

Birkoff turned to look at his lover. "You made that cake I like, too?" he asked incredulously.

"Whipped cream and everything, baby."

Birkoff colored and shut right up. James' bright blue gaze shifted from Birkoff to Declan and back again. "There's a story here, isn't there?"

Declan stuck out his tongue at his lover. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

Smoke chuckled, his blue-grey eyes shimmering with merriment. "I don't think I've ever seen that side of you before, Sey."

"And you never will, Smoke," Birkoff ground out between clenched teeth.

James slid his hand to the back of Smoke's neck and rubbed it gently. "Sounds to me like someone's got a sweet tooth."

Birkoff gaped at James, then at Declan. "You told him!"

Declan burst out laughing, nearly falling over in the process. Staggering from one unsteady leg to another, Declan said between gasps of breathless laughter, "I didn't! But you just did!"

Nikita walked to the doorway of the kitchen and looked back over her shoulder. "You know, you four remind me of something. But I just can't seem to put my finger on it…"

All at once Chris piped up, "They're like the Musketeers, Mom! Only there's four of them!"

The entire room collapsed with laughter, but Nikita recovered first. "Okay, I'll buy that. But then which one of you is the priest?"

Everyone turned as one to stare at Declan. Declan backed up until his back was flush with the wall of the dining room. "Hey, don't look at me. Do I look like someone who spends most of his time on his knees?"

Smoke howled, burying his face against James' chest. James struggled to hold onto him, but his own laughter was getting the better of him. "You might want to rethink your position!" he shouted.

"Praying! I meant praying!" Declan protested.

Walter ambled over to Declan, looking vaguely like John Wayne for some unknown reason, and punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I'd quit while I was ahead, if I was you, pardner," he said amiably.

Declan sobered for a second, casting beseeching silver-grey eyes at his lover. "Acushla, you believe me, don't you?"

Birkoff felt all powerful. For approximately twenty seconds. If he disagreed with Declan, he might be sleeping out on the back lawn tonight.

"Anything you say, Dec." It should have been an affirmation of faith, but instead, it came out sounding more or less sarcastic, as was Birkoff's wont.

Declan's eyes sparkled, but with mischief, not with vengeance. "You'll definitely pay for that one, boyo."

"Looking forward to it, Dec." There's something about a man on his knees that just…

"I don't have anything to say to you, Remy."

"Don't say that, cherie. You're my life," the blond man pleaded with Ariel. After he was banished from the headmistress' office, Remy lay in wait for the family conference to break up. When the Samuelle family left, he was nowhere to be seen. He was good at hiding. He had lots of practice.

Ariel stared at the man she thought she loved, the man she indeed believed would save her from the abusive marriage that held her captive. Maybe it was time she started to think for herself again. How had this happened? She was strong-willed, independent, assertive. Everything she saw in Faith. Everything she would be happy to nurture in the child who reminded her of herself at six.

When she was a child, Ariel dreamed of a fairy tale marriage with all the trimmings. The house, the dog, the white picket fence. Kids. But she wanted more. She wanted an education. In her family, this was not something considered necessary. For females who were expected to marry one day and become part of someone else's household.

Oh, she knew it sounded dreadfully archaic, especially in this day and age, but it was the way her family thought. So she fought like a tigress for the right to go to University. And won. But though she obtained her teaching degree, her family surprised her by betrothing her to an older man. Henri Dupre. A man who had more wealth than emotion. A man who had no need for love. Or young girls of barely 20 who wanted to fall in love before they married.

Now here she was, headmistress of a private academy, living out her dream. Barely 32 now, she still longed for children of her own. But Henri's abuse continued to escalate. She would never bring a child into the world they inhabited together. Never. There was no way out.

Until she met Remy. Remy was sweet, if a bit dull. He claimed to love her, and God only knew how much she needed to be loved. But now she was beginning to wonder. Did he really treat her any better than Henri? Did she put such a low value upon herself that it didn't matter?

With a growl, she turned to face her lover. Of course, it mattered. "Remy, it's over." Now if she could only find the inner strength to face her husband and tell him the same thing.

They were standing outside her office. The hallways were deserted now. It was well after school hours, and everyone, teachers and students included, had gone home. This was normally a time of day when Ariel found peace. But there was no peace to be found here now. Only war.

Remy grabbed her wrists in a bruising grip. "It's over when I say it's over, bitch," he muttered in a low voice.

She could hardly believe her ears. Remy, sweet, soft-spoken Remy, do as he's told Remy, was speaking to her like she was a piece of dirt beneath his shoe.

"You're hurting me."

Suddenly his grip was gone. She stared in disbelief as a stranger came out of nowhere and intervened. "The lady said you're hurting her, friend. You might want to let her go."

What a voice. Soft yet commanding. She would gladly obey that voice. Lightly accented. English?

Remy shrugged off the younger man's hand on his arm. "Don't you touch me! Do you know who I am?"

"Nope," the younger man said cheerfully. "Don't think I wanna know either."

"You—!" Remy sputtered, angered beyond reason at the way things were turning out. "Who the Hell are you anyway?"

"Me? I'm just the janitor, mate. There's not a whole lot you can threaten me with."

Remy turned to Ariel, who was still speechless at this turn of events. "Don't think you can dismiss me like one of your students, Ariel! I'm not done with you! Not yet!"

"Remy!" she cried, feeling frightened for the first time. What would he do? What could he do?

Remy turned on his heel after giving the janitor another fierce look. The janitor whistled merrily and shrugged, just as clearly not worried about Remy.

Ariel took a moment to study the janitor. Younger than she was. But not by too much. Early twenties, maybe. His hair was almost white-blond, falling in gentle curls to the top of his shoulders. His eyes? A vivid, indescribable shade of blue. His features were strong, masculine, not a bit effete, a fact enhanced by his naturally dark eyebrows. So dark, they were nearly black.

"You're staring," the younger man chuckled.

She caught herself and giggled, a noise that was seldom heard within these halls. "So I am. Do you have a name, my blessed protector?"

His eyes sparkled, again calling attention to their color. All at once he put out his hand. "Indigo. They call me Indigo. Must be the eyes. I dunno." He smiled, and the effect was quite striking. Even breathtaking.

They shook hands briefly, though it became apparent that neither of them wanted to let go of the other's hands. Indigo looked down at the way her hand clung to his. "Um, I'm gonna need that hand back, ma'am."

Ariel gasped, a startled cry of laughter ringing out. "Of course. You know who I am?"

"Sure. Everyone knows who you are, ma'am. You're the one running this school. Single-handedly, too." He seemed to be admiring her. For her business aptitude? She didn't know if she should feel flattered or dismayed.

"You can call me Ariel," she said, not realizing how much longing her voice betrayed. She was desperately attracted to this man. Though she could not say why.

"Oh, no, ma'am, I couldn't. I couldn't do that. Everyone would talk."

"About you? Or me?"

Indigo laughed. "Ma'am, everyone talks about you. But it's all good. Honest."

"Do you have a real name, Indigo?" she whispered, not even aware that her voice was growing more and more husky.

He smiled. "Doesn't everyone, ma'am?"

"Ariel."

He seemed to be thinking something over. Whatever it was, he evidently came to some sort of a conclusion. He reached out for her hand and bent his head to kiss the back of it. Like a chivalrous knight in medieval times.

"Glad I could help…Ariel."

His eyes flickered over her face like the lightest of kisses. She could swear she felt his touch. It was like something out of a dream. Her dream.

"Not that a lady like you should be on a first-name basis with the hired help, ma'am, but…" he muttered apologetically.

She interrupted gently, "Ariel."

"Ariel," he repeated, smiling to himself. His fingertips idly caressed the palm of her hand. Oh, boy, he thought, am I in trouble. But he couldn't seem to help himself.

"I'm Robin. Robin Wilding. Though I have to warn you…no one but my Mum's ever called me Robin."

She wanted to get closer to him, but she was hardly his mother. Yet mention of his mother brought her back to the age difference separating them. Then there was the class difference. He was a janitor, for goodness' sake.

Oh, yeah…then there was the fact that she was married. Oh, yeah…

"So…are you ready to go through all that…all over again?" Declan whispered into Sey's hair.

Sey smiled. He was where he belonged, in his lover's arms. The long day into night had finally ended, culminating in what seemed like extraordinary lovemaking for everyone in the house. Unless he missed his guess, no one would be stirring for a very long time. Not even a mouse.

He snuggled closer to Declan, seeking his warmth, and Declan wrapped his arms around him. "You didn't answer me, baby."

Sey slid his cheek along the light smattering of hair on Declan's chest, his fingers playing with one flat male nipple. "Think it'll be any easier today?"

Declan sighed. "Now you're answering a question with a question. What does it take to get a straight answer out of you?"

Sey chuckled, and as his mouth opened, his tongue flicked out to caress the nipple in question. "Stop that. You're trying to distract me."

Declan abruptly pulled his lover up to his level where he could more easily kiss him. Their lips met in brief, teasing touches that tantalized more than satisfied. "Mmm…"

Sey lay his head down again on Declan's chest, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart beneath his ear. "Is it almost time to get up?"

Declan nodded without speaking. Sey wasn't looking directly at Declan, but he could feel the movement. Eventually, he smiled wistfully at Declan, though his fingers continued to seek and twist in nearly constant motion. "I love you," he whispered.

Declan rubbed his chin against the top of Sey's head, reveling in the silky softness of his beautiful dark hair. "I love you, too, acushla." More than I can say.

With a tremendous exhalation of breath, Declan shifted himself away from his lover, preparing to get up for the day. It was early. Very early. But he was sure that Sasha was already up and revving his engines at hyperspeed. "Breakfast…breakfast would be a good idea."

Sey rolled over onto his stomach, the covers barely managing to conceal firm young buttocks. "Breakfast would be a…great idea," he murmured sleepily into the mattress, too tired to raise his head.

Declan yawned and stretched his arms over his head, looking every inch of the young male animal that he was. "You want to do breakfast or get Sasha ready for school? You get first choice today."

Sey buried his face in his arms. "Do I look like someone that should be entrusted with cooking food right now?"

Declan grinned, giving his lover a light slap on the butt. "I dunno, but you do look good enough to eat."

Sey rolled onto his side, facing Declan, and struggled to open his eyes. "That…is how I got this tired in the first place."

Declan ran a long slender finger over Sey's stomach, slowly tracing a path lower into his groin. Sey grabbed his finger and stopped him. Now his eyes were open. Declan laughed. "That's what you get for making that crack about me being on my knees."

"I didn't say that! You did!"

"Aye, but I meant praying, not…you know…"

A sultry smile slowly spread across Birkoff's face. "No, I don't know…I need someone to show me," he said, reaching out to capture a strand of Declan's hair.

Declan removed his hand from his hair very carefully. "Sey, my love, we don't have time for that now."

"Aww…you're no fun anymore, Dec," Sey commented as he rolled back onto his stomach.

Declan leaned over his lover and kissed his shoulder, his lips lingering just a tad too long to be as disinterested as he pretended. "I can be plenty of fun, Sey. Just not now."

Sey pouted, but he couldn't stay mad for long. Not when Declan was trying to kiss the life out of him. Breaking away with a husky giggle, Sey splayed his hands across Declan's chest, holding him at half an arms' length. "Okay, okay, I'll wake the kids. You fix breakfast. At least that way it'll turn out edible."

Declan slid his arms down Sey's bare back to his hips. "Thanks, Sey. Oh, and Sey?"

"Yeah, Dec?" Sey said almost dreamily, liking the way Declan's hands were clenching and unclenching around his hips. He didn't even think Declan was fully aware of what he was doing. God, he loved that man.

"I'll catch you later…and we can finish this." Declan kissed the side of Sey's face, tugging gently at his earlobe with his teeth.

Sey kissed Declan, his touch almost shy. "Love me later," he whispered.

Declan stared intently into his lover's eyes for a long moment. "Love you always, baby," he whispered back.

Sasha walked hand in hand with Skye, enroute to the school bus. He had shared part of his breakfast with her, and she was clearly in a better frame of mind than yesterday at this time. Then a thought occurred to her. "Beast?"

"Yeah?"

"If those boys come back—" she started, her voice quavering.

"They won't," he declared adamantly.

"You sound so sure." Skye frowned at Sasha, wondering how he could be certain.

"No one's ever gonna bother you again, Skye. Not as long as I'm around." It was more than a statement. It was a vow. Sasha knew he held Skye's sacred trust in his heart, and he would sooner die than betray that.

"Thanks, Beast," she said tremulously.

"Beast?"

"Yeah?"

She stopped suddenly, her china blue eyes fixed on his warm brown eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

Sasha felt tears come to his eyes, but he wasn't unhappy. Not by a long shot. He wasn't sure how his life suddenly turned around, but he thanked God that it did. He could feel her waiting for his reply. He said the only thing that came to mind.

"Wow."

Sasha drummed his fingers restlessly on the back of the driver's seat. Suddenly there was a loud noise. Sasha jumped back, eyes wide, as if stung. "Hey…"

The driver of the mini-school bus turned and fixed Sasha with a malevolent glare. "Knock it off, kid."

Sasha's first instinct was to say, Who died and made you King? But he bit his lip and kept his mouth shut. Tight. Skye looked at him, worry bright in her blue eyes. Sasha wrapped his arm around her shoulder reassuringly, more brotherly than anything else at that moment. "It's okay, Ange. I've got you."

She sighed and relaxed against Sasha's sturdy six-year-old body. With school so new, and her world virtually turned upside-down, she clung to Sasha like the lifeline he truly was.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Faith and Chris waved to Sasha and Skye after leaving the bus. Sasha held out his arms to help Skye down the steps of the bus, not really comfortable until she stood next to him. There was something about the bus driver that he didn't like. If he were an adult, he would report him. But, he thought, I'm just a kid. Who cares what I think?

Hand in hand, they entered the school building, unaware that they were being watched. The bus pulled away from the curb with a squeal, causing several children to turn and stare.

When they arrived at Skye's classroom, they stopped, their bodies so in synch, they turned to face one another in unison. Sasha grinned at Skye. Skye giggled without really knowing why. "What? What is it, Beast?"

Sasha bounced on his feet, shifting back and forth between his toes and his heels with very little effort. "I was just thinking…"

"About what?"

"About you." He continued to smile impudently at the little girl.

"What about me?" she couldn't resist asking, blue eyes sparkling.

"What you said. Before," Sasha whispered.

To his amazement, Skye blushed. "Oh, that."

"Yeah, that." Suddenly fearful that Skye didn't mean what she'd said, Sasha asked, "You did mean it…didn't you?"

In response, Skye gave Sasha the most beatific smile he had ever seen in his entire young life. Without speaking, she leaned forward and brushed her lips softly against his. When she drew back, Sasha looked almost stunned.

She waved and entered the kindergarten classroom. He stared after her, a trace of his former grin lingering on his lips. Once more rendered speechless by the little girl, he chuckled to himself. When he could speak again, it was simply to utter one word. The same word. "Wow."

The phone call would come later. Right now, he had to concentrate. That wasn't as easy as it sounded. He stood nervously outside Ariel Dupre's home and contemplated what he was doing. One more time.

He knocked. An elderly female servant answered the door. When he gave his name, the woman shrugged, as if to say, We get all kinds here. She stepped back to allow him entrance, and he moved confidently through the doorway.

He had never been here before. But he knew where he was going. The library. Where Henri Dupre waited.

Faith rolled her eyes. Sasha was making such a big deal out of managing to get Skye's lunch hour changed to coincide with his.

Chris interrupted his twin sister's reverie. "You don't approve?"

"Well, gee, Chris, us big kids are supposed to do stuff the little ones can't," Faith said petulantly, her lower lip in a pout.

Chris' eyes moved over Faith's face, his blue-eyed gaze strangely assessing, like his father's. "It's just lunch, Fee."

He took a big bite out of his sandwich and studied Sasha and his younger sister. "Besides, she *is* our sister."

Faith protested with a hearty wail. "That's just what I mean. No one hangs out with their…sister!"

Chris chewed slowly, considering that statement carefully. "I do."

"That's different, Chris."

"Why?" True to his nature, he wanted to know the reasons for things. Chris was definitely a scientist in the making. He always wanted to know why.

"It just is."

Chris shook his head. "That's a dumb answer."

"I am not dumb!" Faith all but shouted, drawing an interested glance from Sasha and Skye.

Lowering her voice, Faith continued, "I am not dumb."

"I didn't say you were. Just your answer."

"Well, it's different cause we…we're twins."

All at once, Chris began to smile. Faith looked completely puzzled. "I don't hang out with you cause you're my twin, Fee."

Faith's mouth dropped open. Huh? "Y-you don't?"

"Nope." Chris took another bite of his sandwich. "I hang out with you cause I like you."

Faith's changeable grey-green eyes shifted color. Now they were bright green. "You do?"

"Heck, yeah."

"But I'm your sister."

"I know."

"But no one likes their sister. Or brother."

"Who said?" Chris asked defiantly. He would follow the path of his own choosing, no matter where it led.

"I dunno. I just don't think…you're supposed to."

"Why not?" Chris countered logically.

"I dunno." Faith looked lost.

Chris sighed. "Fee?"

"Yeah?"

"Now you sound dumb."

Faith threw the remainder of her sandwich at her brother. He laughed. Sisters were not like other girls. Thank God.

"What do you want?"

"Now is that any way to greet the man who's going to make all your dreams come true?"

Henri Dupre snorted derisively at the younger man. Insolent twit. No class either. "Get to the point, Remy."

"How do you know my name?" The fact that Henri Dupre knew his name unnerved Remy. He had thought this was a good plan. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I know the names of all the men who sleep with my wife," the older man uttered with implacable calm.

"All the—?"

Henri laughed. "You pathetic toad. Did you think you were the first? She thinks she'll escape eventually. But I have no intentions of letting that happen."

Suddenly Remy thought that confronting Henri Dupre in his own home was a very bad idea. "Look, you've got something I want. I've got something you want."

"What could I possibly have that you want?" Henri shrugged. "Besides money, of course."

Remy abruptly drew himself up to his full height. Which was not as much as he'd like. "Your wife."

"I already told you. You're not the first. You won't be the last. No one keeps her but me."

"I know something you want more than…her." Now Remy was scared. Revealing what he knew about the older man's proclivities could just get him killed. A one-way ticket to disappear.

Henri Dupre's old eyes lit up with a strange gleam. "You have…children?"

Remy swallowed hard, trying desperately not to lose his nerve. Good God, it was one thing to think about kidnapping a kid. But that… God, Remy thought, even I have a problem with that.

Henri looked amused that Remy thought he had scruples. "You have a…little girl…for me?"

Christ, Remy said to himself, he's a creep who needs someone to stop him right in his tracks.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be him.