With Damion tied up and sniffling miserably in the back of the car, the rest of the group were free to take a moment to regroup. Bijou was standing with his hands deep in his pockets. Bram was aware of how he was clutching the knife. Suzanne was staring at Bijou with her arms crossed over her chest. Bram looked between the two of them, wondering what he should do.

"Who are you?" Suzanne asked Bijou.

"No one," Bijou lied.

"Bullshit," Suzanne cut. "Bram, who is this guy?"

"I don't know," Bram lied. "Clothes he was wearing when I found him were worth a fortune, though."

"Are we going to stand here all night?" Bijou snapped. "Let's go." He turned and reached for the car door but Bram beat him to it, opening the latch and throwing the door open for him. Bijou glanced at him, but said nothing. He climbed into the front seat of the car and stared ahead. Bram shut the door and glanced at Suzanne.

"Ride in the back?" he asked. "I'll need you to keep Damion calm. He's still crying away."

Suzanne frowned, stepped forward, and took Bram's arm, squeezing it hard enough to hurt.

"Are we safe?" she asked in a low voice. Not low enough that it wasn't impossible that Bijou could hear her even over the engine of the car, but very low.

Bram stared into Suzanne's eyes. They were as black as they'd been the night before. She was wearing the same clothes, too, an alpha woman's clothes of her station, dark trousers, a lighter shirt with rolled sleeves, a jacket, and boots. Her long black hair was pulled straight and combed back and up in the ladies' fashion, unlike Bijou's. Bram was unsurprised, but deeply disappointed when he felt nothing looking at her. He smiled at her, though, and nodded.

A small smile graced Suzanne's lips, and she nodded back, before getting in the car's backseat with Damion, who had tucked himself into a whimpering ball.

Bram looked towards Paris and scanned the city for trouble. Somewhere in the shadows he found it lurking, waiting. But he couldn't see its face. With nothing to do, Bram sighed and walked around the car to the drivers' side and got in.

"Where are we going?" Suzanne asked.

"Back to Paris," Bijou said. "At least we won't have to walk."

Bram noticed Bijou had grabbed his sister's pack from the hotel room when they fled and now had it on his lap. He was rummaging through it and produced a sandwich.

"Are you hungry, Suzanne?" Bijou asked.

Suzanne eyed the food a moment before taking it. "I've… heard your name before, I think. Bijou. Who are you?"

"No one," Bijou lied again.

Bram took a breath and began to drive.

Damion calmed down after a few minutes of driving and began to mutter out what he knew about their original job.

"Mister Du Lait, called me into his office yesterday afternoon and told me he had a job he needed done. He said it would pay good money, and I'd be set up if I could pull it off."

Damion was obviously breaking under the pressure of everything. It took him longer than it should have to get the story out.

"He said he'd gotten a man on the inside of a rival. He didn't say who. Only that this was big, really big. And all I had to do was pick some muscle for the job. He said, 'I've seen you around some alphas, like a harlot in heat.’"

Bram tightened his grip on the steering wheel and otherwise kept his eyes on the dark road. Bijou displayed no such tact.

"Fuck that bastard," he said.

Damion hiccuped and continued. "He told me at least one needed to drive. And the other needed to be strong and loyal. To know how to put an end to someone and keep his mouth shut. I didn't… I didn't even know until I saw you…" He hiccuped again.

"And you didn't have the balls to question things?" Bijou asked. "Cockless fucking bastard."

"Bijou," Bram scolded half-heartedly, but it did little good. He felt the same way.

The rest of the ride was silent except for the car's engine until they reached Central Paris and Bijou began giving directions. They were in the 18th arrondissement, a high-class area of Paris that Bram rarely had reason to be in. They reached Bijou's neighborhood as the sun was rising.

"You live here?" Suzanne asked, looking out the window.

"I didn't always," Bijou answered cryptically. "Park in front of that house on the corner?" he said to Bram.

"I got it," Bram answered. "Do we walk from here?" he asked.

"Walk?" Bijou said. "No. We're here. Come on."

Bram looked at the house. It was a huge mansion, three stories, with pillars and brilliant windows. Bram suddenly remembered his own home, not the shack back in the factory's shadow, but his childhood home in the bog of Ireland, where he wandered with Willow barefoot in the mud.

"I don't… know." Bram said.

"Go on," Suzanne whispered. "We'll wait here."

"Maybe you'll get a reward for bringing him back," Damion muttered, almost to himself. Then he seemed to get shocked by something. "Where are the kids?!"

"Never you mind!" Bijou snapped. "Bram, come on. Mama will want to meet you." He opened the door and climbed out of the car, shutting it behind him.

Bram had little choice but to follow.