The ride to town was exhilarating, both because of the beauty of the shore road at night and her own anticipation at seeing Dane again. She must have daydreamed half the way because before she knew it, she was pulling her bike into line with several others in front of the bar. She was surprised to see that the room was already crowded. When she finally made her way up to the bar, the bartender came over to her immediately and handed her a glass of brandy. Kyle stared at her.

“From a friend.”

Kyle took the glass and sipped from it slowly, turning unhurriedly to survey the room. She saw her then, against the wall by the jukebox. She was standing much as she had been the first time Kyle had seen her, half in shadow. Her slender figure was encased in soft leather, and Kyle could make out the swath of black around her left wrist as her hands moved slowly while she talked. Kyle’s heart pounded, but she forced herself to look away and scan the room. No one there stirred her the way Dane did. She doubted any one ever would. She knew she should wait.

The brandy warmed her even as the air seemed to glow with the excitement and the sexual energy of the women around her. She felt herself fuse and meld with the charged atmosphere as real time slipped away. Hours passed, or it might have been minutes, as her anticipation slowly eclipsed her perceptions. The suspense of waiting was finally broken by a voice at her side.

“You look good tonight,” Dane’s cool voice murmured in her ear.

Kyle started. She had not seen her approach. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” Dane moved closer to her, shifting in the crowd so that her slender legs straddled Kyle from the side. She pressed her hand against the soft curve of Kyle’s back.

“You left something of yours behind the other day,” Dane said.

Kyle looked up at Dane in surprise, unable to read anything in Dane’s blue eyes. As she started to protest, Dane handed her a small lighter, gold with black edges, exactly the opposite of her own old favorite.

Kyle closed her fingers around it. “Thank you.”

Dane nodded and turned to the bar. “Sandy,” she called.

The bartender, hurriedly mixing drinks, looked over at her.

“A bottle of brandy, please. And another glass.” She filled her glass and poured more into Kyle’s. “We should have a fire.”

Kyle looked into Dane’s face, her own features flushed. “We don’t need one.”

Dane smiled then, her gaze softening. “Dance?”

Kyle nodded, following Dane’s lead through the crowd. The music was fast, pulsating with a rhythm that seemed to reflect her own internal fires. When the songs slowed, she moved into Dane’s arms easily, slipping her fingers into the hair above Dane’s collar. Dane’s body fit into every curve of her own. Dane’s hands were possessive on her back, sliding firmly to her hips. She pulled Kyle tightly against her as they moved sensuously together. When they finally parted, they were both shaking. Wordlessly, Dane led her back to the bar.

Dane handed Kyle her brandy and raised her glass in a quick salute.

“It’s time to leave,” Dane said, watching Kyle carefully. “We’ll take the brandy.”

Kyle’s reply was interrupted by a voice beside them.

“Very nice scene, Dane,” Brad said sarcastically.

Kyle saw Dane stiffen and reached out without thought to touch her arm. Dane pulled quickly away and turned to Brad.

“Leave it alone, Brad,” Dane said, her eyes like stone.

Kyle wanted to take Dane’s hand and pull her away, but she feared Dane’s reaction. Something was happening that she didn’t understand.

“I don’t think so,” Brad said just as quickly. “You seem to have something I want.”

“No,” Dane said tightly. “Not this time.”

Brad grasped Dane’s left arm in a vice-like grip. “Do you want me to show you how it should be done?” She forced Dane off balance with the strength of her hold on her. “Or do you still remember?”

Dane stared at Brad’s hand on her arm, suddenly back in another room, in another time. She shook her head, feeling her throat constrict.

“No,” she murmured, so softly that Kyle could barely hear her. “There’s nothing you can do to me now.”

“I can still do it, Dane. Because you still want me to,” Brad replied, her eyes fixed on Dane’s tense features. “I can, and I will—if you don’t leave.”

Dane looked at Kyle, her eyes clouded with anguish. “Kyle,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Dane turned quickly and pushed her way to the door. Kyle stared dumbly at her retreating back for a second, then bolted after her.

“Dane,” she called as she finally reached the street, only to see Dane pull away in her grey Camaro. Kyle stared up the street after the fading headlights, stunned. Finally she unhooked her helmet from her bike and straddled the wide tank. As she rose to kick-start the engine, Brad came up beside her.

“You’re not leaving, I hope.”

Kyle stared at her, her eyes blazing. “I don’t know what hold you have on her, or what you’ve done to her. But you’re nothing compared to her.”

Brad’s laughter followed her as she roared away.

Dane raced through the streets, riddled with pain. She could still feel Brad’s hand on her arm, searing her flesh. She could see Kyle’s eyes on her, confused and questioning. She wanted to be done of it; she wanted to bury her pain and expunge her fear. She pulled quickly to a stop behind a line of cars and strode across the street in a fury. Her knock was answered at once.

The woman stared out at her, her smile cruel. This time she said nothing, merely stepping back to allow Dane entrance.

Dane slipped inside, shedding her jacket on the bench beside the door.

“Let me have something,” she said tersely.

The woman studied her for a moment, then nodded.

“Go upstairs. It’s open.”

Dane climbed the stairs, her mind closed to all thought except her need to escape. She entered the warm room and methodically began to remove her clothes. When the woman returned, she was naked.

“Give me your arm,” the woman commanded.

Dane stared at her for a second, then held out her left arm. The strap was tight where it wrapped around her upper arm. She flinched at the sharp point of pain that pierced her skin. She looked away. Her chest burned before the soothing calm overtook her. Her mind began to drift and she had to strain to hear the voice beside her.

“Are you ready?”

Dane nodded mutely and allowed herself to be led again to the scaffold against the wall. She waited calmly in a haze of shifting light, slowly disconnecting from her physical self. When the first blow came, she felt the pain, but it seemed to be happening to someone else. As the lash cut swatches of fire across her back, she acknowledged them with a slight shudder. Still, the pain failed to penetrate to her core. She could still see Brad’s face, hear her voice—where was Kyle? She searched the blackness around her, but she couldn’t find Kyle. She felt then the vice-like grip of Brad’s hand on her arm. Something hurt her, somewhere inside, and she knew it must be Brad - tearing at her soul. No! She wouldn’t let her do it again, she wouldn’t be broken again. She wouldn’t ask her to stop—not this time. Brad would never do that to her again! She heard the snap of the cat, far away, and wondered whom Brad was disciplining now. She felt something tremble inside, but it didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt anymore. It was someone else! She laughed as she realized she was free—no one could touch her anymore! She sighed and closed her mind to the sound of the lash, grateful at last for the peace.

The woman lowered her aching arm. The room was quiet. The red glow of the lights reflected off Dane’s naked back and streamed to the floor. As she stared at Dane uncomprehendingly, she realized she had lost herself in the frenzy of her strokes. She took a step forward, instantly returning to reality.

“Dane,” she whispered fearfully. Quickly she released the restraints. She caught Dane’s limp body before she could slump to the floor. Her hand on Dane’s back came away damp. She pressed her fingers gently against Dane’s neck, finding the rapid, thready pulse. She covered her with a blanket from behind the bar and closed the door behind her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CAROLINE REACHED ACROSS Anne in the dark, trying to find the phone. She glanced at the bedside clock as she pulled the receiver toward her.

“Hello,” she said thickly, trying to clear the sleep from her throat. It was four o’clock in the morning.

“Caroline?” a deep voice said.

“Yes?”

“I have a friend of yours here who needs your help—now. Do you know Divisadero?”

“Yes—but who?” Caroline cried, sitting up in bed and shaking her head at Anne, who was awake now, too.

“The 2000 block. She’ll be in a grey Camaro.”

The line went dead before Caroline could reply.

She leapt out of bed and fumbled for her clothes.

“Anne!” she cried, searching for the car keys on the bureau. “Get dressed! Dane’s in trouble!”

Anne pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt and raced outside behind Caroline. “What happened?” she cried as Caroline maneuvered their jeep through the deserted streets.

“I don’t know. Someone called. Said she was in trouble.”

“Where?” Anne asked, frightened.

“Up this block somewhere. Do you see Dane’s car?” Caroline said frantically.

“Over there! On the left!”

Caroline screeched to a halt beside the familiar car.

“It’s empty!” Anne said.

Caroline leapt from the jeep as Anne followed. She pulled on the passenger’s door and it opened. She could see by the overhead light a blanket-covered figure in the rear seat.

“Oh god,” she moaned, as she pushed the front seat forward. “Dane!”