As she studied Sheldon’s smooth face and red hair, she guessed he was no more than twenty years old. Most—if not all—other Seconds were over twenty-five. She had once heard Chris say he liked to make sure his recruits had made it past the I’m-going-to-party-my-ass-off-and-go-wild-now-that-I’m-out-of-my-parents’-house phase and were ready to get down to business. Immortals needed their Seconds to be on call and ready to rush to their aid and fight, if necessary, twenty-four hours a day. If the Seconds were drunk off their asses from partying with their friends, they could get their immortals killed instead of helping them.

And there was also the matter of discretion. Seconds were forbidden to speak of their profession to anyone. (Melanie didn’t know what Chris did to those who spilled the beans and didn’t want to know.) Seconds who spent their weekends partying could not be counted on to keep their mouths shut. And those young enough to still succumb to peer pressure would be more likely to brag about their cool gig in order to get attention or to increase their chances of getting laid.

So Sheldon was a real rarity.

Richart’s Second stared at Bastien for what felt like five minutes. “Um . . . would you excuse me for a moment?” Taking three slow steps backward, he leaned out into the hallway. “Richart?” The bellow vibrated with nervous tension.

Behind her, Bastien sighed heavily. “You don’t have to shout. If he were standing outside on the lawn, he could hear you whisper.”

“Oh. Right.” A moment passed. “Richart?” he said in a normal voice.

Melanie tried not to laugh. “He isn’t here.”

“Oh.” He cleared his throat. “So. Did he, ah . . .” His gaze returned to Bastien. “Did you . . . force him to bring you here?”

“Oh, for shit’s sake!” Bastien snapped. “No!”

She did laugh then. She couldn’t help it. “I assume you’re Sheldon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m Dr. Lipton.” She held out her hand. “You can call me Melanie.”

Much to her surprise, Sheldon strode forward and clasped her hand. “Nice to meet you, Melanie.”

Bastien moved to her side. “You can call her Dr. Lipton.”

She expected the young Second to fall victim to Bastien’s stern warning and acquiesce.

Instead, he said, “So . . . Melanie . . . what brings you to our humble home?”

“I was wounded earlier tonight by some of Emrys’s soldiers.”

“Son of a bitch!” He frowned at Bastien. “Did you get ’em?”

“All of them,” he answered, some of the harshness leaving his expression.

“Good.”

There was more to Sheldon than met the eye. “That’s why Richart brought us here. He knew Mr. Reordon would go on a rampage and want to lock Bastien up for not leaving any of them alive.”

Sheldon tilted his head to one side as he studied Bastien. “Well, you did kinda deviate from the plan. The whole point was to catch some of them and interrogate them. But I get why you killed them instead. I would’ve offed the fuckers, too.” He nodded to Melanie. “How are you doing? Do you need anything? Should I get the med kit? I aced field medicine during my training, so if you—”

“I’m fine, thank you. Roland healed me.”

“Roland Warbrook?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. You really have a knack for making friends with antisocial bastards, don’t you?”

Bastien’s lips curled up. “Yes, she does.”

Sheldon clapped his hands together. “Well, I assume Richart will be back once things cool down. What can I do for you in the meantime?” He eyed Bastien. “No offense, dude, but you look like shit. You need some blood?”

“I do actually.”

“Follow me.” He led the way out of the living room and into a spacious kitchen. “Melanie, can I fix you something to eat? I suck as a cook, but can warm you up some of the vegetarian pot pie Richart made earlier.”

“No, thank you.”

He crossed to the refrigerator, opened it, and bent down to retrieve bags of blood from the meat compartment. He handed them to Bastien. “Are you sure? It’s better than it sounds. I mean, I thought any pot pie that was all organic and didn’t contain meat would taste like whale snot, but the shit is delicious.”

Melanie laughed. She could sort of see why Richart was willing to put up with Sheldon. “I don’t—”

“You should eat something,” Bastien interrupted. “We both should. It’s been a long night. And it may not be over yet. We don’t know what’s going to happen once Chris burns Seth’s ears with his interpretation of what went down.”

She nodded. “You’re right. Thank you, Sheldon. We’d appreciate it.”

“My pleasure. Would you guys like to shower and change first?”

Melanie glanced down at her now-sticky hospital gown. “I’d love to, but I don’t have anything to change into.” Anything in Richart’s size would swallow her.

“No problem. One of the guest rooms is reserved for Richart’s sister. Lisette doesn’t stay the day often, but she keeps several changes of clothes here for when she does. I don’t think she’d mind you borrowing something.”

Lisette was close to her size, so Melanie fervently hoped she’d find something that would fit. She wasn’t sure how much the back of her hospital gown exposed, but it felt pretty breezy back there. And, while she wouldn’t mind Bastien catching a glimpse of her butt, she would rather not flash Sheldon.

“If you’re sure . . .”

He led them out of the kitchen. “I’m sure. Lisette’s great. Let me show you to the guest rooms.” Stopping, Sheldon turned around and eyed them speculatively. “Or guest room. Are you guys together? Because when I walked in on you a minute ago, you were—”

“No.”

Sheldon’s eyebrows rose at Bastien’s clipped response. “It was a momentary . . . digression.”

Now Melanie raised her eyebrows. “Says you.”

Bastien smiled. “Would you stop saying that?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes you smile.”

Sheldon started walking again. “Momentary digression, my ass,” he mumbled.

“I can hear you,” Bastien reminded him.

“I know.” Sheldon guided them to guest bedrooms that were next to each other. “I’ll be back in a minute with some clothes, Melanie.”

Once the Second was gone, Bastien stared down at her in silence.

He was thinking again. Or, she should say, he was thinking too much again. She could almost see the thoughts swirling around behind those gorgeous brown eyes and knew what he would say before he said it.

“About what happened . . .”

Yep. She had figured he was obsessing over that. Poor guy. The immortals had really done a number on him, convincing him he was the evil monster they seemed to think him. Now he probably thought kissing her would taint her somehow. She was going to have to do something about that. She just needed a little time to decide what.

“I assume you mean the kiss?” she asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“The warm, wet, pulse-racing, make-me-want-to-strip-you-naked-and-rub-every-inch-of-my-body-against-yours kiss?”

His eyes flared, an involuntary reflection of his arousal. “That’s the one.”

“What about it?”

“It shouldn’t happen again.”

“You didn’t like it?” Okay, teasing him was mean, but she couldn’t resist.

“You know I did,” he admitted, voice deepening in a way that sent a sensual shiver through her. “If my eyes didn’t clue you in, I’m sure other body parts did.”

“Very impressively,” she agreed.

“Even so, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“You’ve said something similar before.”

“I meant it. I care about you, Melanie. A lot. And . . . I don’t want to sound condescending . . . I just don’t think you understand how bad things will get for you if you’re associated with me romantically. We’re not just talking dirty looks or snide comments. We’re talking the possible destruction of your career. Chris Reordon doesn’t trust me and never will. Give him even the tiniest reason and he will lock me up. We’re here right now because he wants to chain me up in the holding room.”

And she would really like to know why Chris hated Bastien so much. Her boss was usually a levelheaded guy. Friendly. There if you needed anything. But with Bastien . . . it just seemed personal.

“I’m not worried about that.”

“You should be.” He said it with such concern. “Your work at the network is invaluable. If anyone can find a cure for this virus or a method of preventing or treating the damage it causes in humans, you can.”

That was both an incredible compliment and a heavy burden to bear. So much expectation . . . If she failed them . . . “Look, don’t put me on a pedestal, Bastien.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Melanie. You’re too important. And you like your job, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” And she knew how rare that was. So many people were stuck in jobs they hated, working with people they didn’t like. There may be a lot of pressure involved with her job, but she enjoyed it and liked most of the people she worked with (Dr. Whetsman was the exception).

“Being with me will jeopardize all of that,” Bastien continued. “Right now, you have the highest level clearance at the network and access to any and all information you need. If word gets out that you and I . . . If anyone suspects you might have tender feelings for me, that clearance will be revoked. You will no longer be trusted at the network and they will shut you out. I wouldn’t even put it past Chris to deny you further access to Cliff and Joe.”