He smiled at me, leaning over and covering one of my hands with his. “By being your father. By protecting you, and by treating you kindly. And by being honest with you.”

I gently extracted my hand from under his, not quite ready for physical signs of affection yet. “I like your way better,” I muttered under my breath.

He smiled again, and his eyes twinkled. “I’m rather counting on that.”

I went to bed that night cautiously optimistic about my situation. I certainly felt safer, more comfortable, and more free now than I had since I’d first set eyes on Aunt Grace. But I couldn’t help wondering if Dad’s attitude toward me would change if I stopped doing what he wanted me to do. Would he still treat me “kindly” then? Or would the claws come out? Because I knew he had some, even if he hadn’t shown them to me yet.

The next day dawned as what I was beginning to think of as a typical Avalon summer day. Meaning it was damp and cloudy with a very un-summer-like chill in the air. I slept in, enjoying the novelty of sleeping in a relatively comfortable bed. The futon wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, and the sheets were soft against my skin.

I showered and got dressed, going for another pair of cargo pants, this time with a T-shirt and a hoodie. I was glad to be going shopping again today, because I was going to need some warmer clothes. I’d known it wouldn’t be as warm here as in the States, but the damp added an extra bite to the chill that I hadn’t been prepared for.

I shoved what I had left of Dad’s money—which was most of it—into one of the cargo pockets, then headed downstairs to wait for Kimber. I could tell last night that Dad wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me hanging out with “the enemy,” but he hadn’t tried to forbid it. I gave him major kudos for that.

I’d expected to find my dad downstairs, but instead found Finn, sitting on the living room sofa. He was dressed much like he’d been yesterday, though his jacket was draped over the arm of the sofa, and his dark glasses were tucked into his shirt pocket. I’d been bummed about having him hanging over my shoulder yesterday, but right now I didn’t mind the idea quite as much.

“Where’s my dad?” I asked as I headed to the kitchen to see if I could scrounge up some coffee.

“At work,” Finn answered. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me again.”

“I’ll find a way to live with it,” I said over my shoulder, and I think Finn might have laughed, though it was so short and quiet I almost missed it.

My hopes for a good cup of coffee were dashed when I saw Dad didn’t even have a coffeepot. There was plenty of tea, but even if I’d known how to make loose tea, I’d have skipped it. I did eventually find a jar of instant coffee, which I finally decided was better than nothing. I wasn’t sure that was true after I tasted it, but I forced it down for medicinal purposes.

Kimber showed up promptly at ten in a disgustingly cheerful mood. I’d never been that big a shopper myself—it was hard to get too enthused about shopping when you were counting every penny, hoping you’d be able to pay the electric bill. But I had to admit, with Kimber, it was fun. She had an awesome eye, and practically everything she suggested I try on looked fabulous on me, if I do say so myself.

Being a practical sort, I stayed focused on buying the basics—sweaters, long-sleeved shirts, and heavier pants, in various blends of cotton and wool. But Kimber was constantly egging me on to buy more extravagant stuff—dresses, skirts, frilly blouses. Like I said, she had a great eye, but though I tried everything on, I just couldn’t see spending money on things I’d never get to wear. My “boring” selections annoyed her to no end.

“You have to buy something fun,” she pouted at me when we left yet another shop without any silk, velvet, or lace in my bag. Finn was already carrying so many bags for me he looked like a very hot porter, but I still had more than two hundred euros left. And I had to admit, the idea of splurging on something completely impractical did have some appeal.

Kimber must have sensed my weakness. “I know!” she said, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “My birthday’s next month, and I’ll be having a great party. We should start hunting for the perfect dress for you.”

I gaped at her. “You expect me to wear a dress for a birthday party?”

Kimber stuck her nose in the air, reminding me briefly of her ice-princess act. “It’s my party, my rules. And I happen to like dresses.”

I remembered the froufrou feathered monstrosity in her closet, and hoped that wasn’t the kind of dress she had in mind. I protested feebly as she dragged me into yet another boutique.

If it had been just me, I’d have taken one look at the price tags and turned right back around. But Kimber on a mission was a force to be reckoned with, and I soon found myself in the dressing room with an armful of beautiful, expensive, impractical dresses.

With Kimber’s help, I narrowed it down to two choices, but I still wasn’t sure I was willing to fork over that kind of money for a party dress.

“I like the blue one best,” Kimber said. “It really brings out the color of your eyes.”

I made a noncommittal sound. The blue was, of course, the more expensive of the two choices. Obviously, Kimber hadn’t had to pinch a penny in her life.

She made an exasperated little huffing sound. “I’m going to go find something for myself while you think about it. But don’t think you’re leaving here empty-handed.” She shook her finger at me, and I rolled my eyes.

She’d been gone for maybe a minute when I heard a thud from the inside of the shop. I wasn’t overly alarmed. Not until the cameo warmed, and I felt the weird, prickly feeling. There was no way that was good news.

I quickly pulled on my street clothes—if I was going to face baddies, I’d rather not do it wearing nothing but panties—and had just shoved my arms through the sleeves of my hoodie when the dressing room door crashed open.

I let out a startled shriek and jumped back as Finn came flying through the door, crashing into the full-length mirror against the wall. The glass shattered on impact, and Finn let out a grunt of pain.

Two men followed Finn in, strolling as if there were nothing unusual going on. One of them stopped to close the dressing room door behind him, while the other advanced on Finn.

They were both tall and muscular, built very much like Finn. They also had the MIB look going, down to the dark glasses they didn’t even need outside on this gloomy day. I made a wild guess that they were Knights. And that I was in big, big trouble.

I tried a scream, because, hey, that seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time, but it didn’t seem to bother the Knights. Probably the only people who could hear me were Kimber and the shopkeeper, but the Knights would have had to go through them before getting back to the dressing room. I hoped they were okay.

Finn was bleeding from a nasty cut across his forehead, and broken mirror shards had to be stabbing him everywhere. The Knights were between me and the exit, but I made a dash for it anyway, hoping their bulk would make them slow. Unfortunately, it didn’t. One of them grabbed me and hauled me against his chest, my feet dangling. He held me to him with one arm around my chest, just below my breasts, one arm pressed hard against my throat. I tried my best to kick him, but it’s hard to get a whole lot of force kicking backward, so it didn’t seem to bother him much.

“Fight, and the girl dies,” the other Knight said to Finn, who had managed to get to his knees.

Finn’s gaze darted to me, and the Knight who held me squeezed tighter so I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t hurt her,” he said quietly. “I won’t fight.”