“Honey,” Harold said with a smirk, “ Alice would skin me alive for that, too.”

A rich group guffaw rewarded his sally, and Mia’s cheeks heated. This was absurd. Despite a good night’s sleep and a full stomach, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Well, metaphorically, anyway. At this point, she needed to get back to Søren; he could protect her if they were still looking for her.

If not, well… she loved him. She wanted him. It was that simple. She’d found the man she’d never walk away from, whether he wanted her or not.

She offered a half smile. “I’ll have to restrain myself. A different favor, then, if you have the time?”

Harold grinned, acknowledging that she was a good sport. “I’m seventy-eight years old. What do you think I do all day?”

“Then I need the address of the Safeway and the telephone.”

A uniformed cop offered her a seat at the desk while someone else wrote down the information. Mia had no idea what time it was in Sinagpore-or if Kyra was still there; she implored merciful gods that her friend would answer the phone. Taking a deep breath, she dialed. It rang three times, making her think it would roll to voice mail and then:

“Hello?” Groggy. Kyra.

Great, she’d woken her up. But she’d reached her. “It’s Mia.”

“What’s wrong? Are you in trouble? I got your e-mail. You said it was complicated.”

What the hell? And then it hit her. Søren. He must’ve remembered what I said about not wanting Kyra to worry. Thank God.

She took the cue. “The situation has been upgraded from complicated to a big fucking mess. Can you wire me some money?”

“Of course.” Kyra proved why she was the best of all possible friends, no questions asked. “Give me the information, and I’ll find an all-night transfer agent somewhere. If I have to, I’ll call it in and put it on Rey’s card.” Mia heard a bass rumble in the background and then: “He wants to know how much you need. The gold card has a 10K limit, but he has a platinum with no balance and a higher line of credit.”

“Your boyfriend would send me that much money?” She was flabbergasted.

This time, she heard the answer clearly; he must’ve leaned closer to the phone. “Absolutely. You sent me Kyra, and she’s priceless.”

God, how she envied them.

She collected herself, realizing she had a small precinct listening to every word. “I don’t need much, a few hundred to buy clothes and to travel on. I can take the bus from here, I think.” At Harold’s nod of confirmation, she gave Kyra the pertinent information regarding the local Safeway, and then added, “I don’t have ID, so you’ll need to send the money to Harold Dixon. He’s helping me out.”

“Give him a kiss for me, then,” Kyra said. “But no ID? That isn’t like you. What’s going on? Do you need backup? Say the word, and we’re on a plane.”

Love and gratitude flooded her. With warrants outstanding, it would be risky for Kyra to come back into the country on a plane. Her crimes weren’t high profile, but there was always a risk when crossing international borders.

“No, I’ll be fine. I just had my purse stolen and a scare, that’s all.”

“If I don’t hear from you on a new cell phone within twenty-four hours, I’m on my way. I know you were in Exeter last, so that’s where I’ll start looking.”

“Noted. But it’s not necessary. This is more than enough.”

“Then let me get the money sent. Love ya, M. Talk soon.”

She smiled, teary with relief. “You, too, Special K.”

Kyra was laughing when she hung up; Mia knew why. She hadn’t called her friend that in years. The cops were watching her warily, as if they expected her to start bawling. Mia proved them wrong by reining it in and wiping her eyes discreetly.

“So you’ve got someone sending you money, care of me? That’s clever. I guess we’d better head over to the Safeway and wait for it.” Offering the other men a jaunty wave, Harold shambled toward his elderly Buick out front.

Inside the grocery store, they waited for nearly two hours before the wire came through. To pass the time, she pulled a free local newzine from the stand outside and read the classified ads. Harold took possession of the money, and he was wide-eyed to discover Kyra had sent a full grand in emergency funding. Mia offered a hundred for his trouble, but he wouldn’t take it.

“Alice wouldn’t like it,” he muttered. “Besides, this is the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“Then maybe you wouldn’t mind driving me around a little longer?”

“Not at all.”

Finally, something was going right. At the Safeway, she found a tote bag and a paperback by Eve Silver that looked interesting. From here, she could put things back together one step at a time: a few clothes, a stop at the library, and then a bus ticket. But… where to?

Søren permitted himself a final glance at the bedroom where he’d made love to Mia for the first time. It was a sentimental indulgence, one that excoriated him from within. He could see her cinnamon skin against the white sheets, hear the soft sounds she made. His hands coiled into fists.

With that, he spun on his heels and left the cabin for good. There was no point in lingering here. Nothing struck him as quite so pathetic as a man without a purpose, and yet he had none.

Certainly, he could devote himself to finding other satellite labs and killing more monsters in human skin: men like Rowan. But when Mia died, he’d lost his taste for killing. It was as if her loss had snuffed his anger, leaving him weighted with sorrow instead.

The Infiniti started with a purr, and he directed the car toward the highway. He could not wait to put Virginia behind him, even if the departure heralded a number of unpalatable realities. But the time had come to man up and accept that some bitter truths could never be altered.

He drove with iron focus, not allowing himself to dwell on what awaited him. The Maryland state line didn’t offer any sense of escape. Instead, he felt more oppressed. By the time he turned in to the parking lot at Whispering Pines, he was sweating. His hands shook on the steering wheel and he leaned his forehead against it, rebuilding his composure.

Several long moments passed before he could exit the vehicle.

It took hours on the bus to return to Exeter.

When she disembarked, she headed immediately for the condo to check her e-mail. But there was nothing. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember where Søren’s rental chalet was, nor was the information listed.

Maybe he’s dead, said a small, insidious voice. Maybe he got the Viking funeral pyre he wanted, down in the lab.

No, she told herself. I’d know.

And maybe, with his mission accomplished, he’d simply moved on. Maybe for a man like him, it was as easy as that. At what point did she give up and take the hint? When hell freezes over, her inner voice answered. He could damn well look her in the eyes and say good-bye, if that was how it would be.

The next day, Mia managed to get her ID replaced by jumping through a series of governmental hoops. She also bought a new car-one she purchased herself-and she was staying in the old couple’s condo. They had shown understanding about her “family emergency” and said it had been no trouble to have the neighbor feed Peaches while she was gone.

So now that her immediate problems had been solved, she needed to apply her problem-solving skills to locating one singular man. Mia sat down at the kitchen table and leaned down to pet the cat twining around her ankles.

She took up a pen and notepad and began to outline the obstacles. If he has a cell phone, I don’t know the number. Yes, that was a problem. Can’t remember the location of the cabin. Another problem. Not answering e-mails. She refused to consider that a hint. Maybe he had stopped checking that particular account. She also refused to entertain the possibility that he hadn’t made it out of the facility. The very idea roused sickness in her gut.