He stared at Philo, holding the man's gaze with the force of his will until Philo looked away, uneasy.

Giving them both a weak smile, Philo said, "Will you be having the Phal-"

"Your specialty of bread and warm cheese," Sebastian cut in. If his little rabbit knew what "phallic"

meant, she'd probably run down the street screaming. And that wasn't the way he wanted her to scream.

"And wine."

Philo hurried away, ignoring calls from other tables.

"Wine?" Lynnea said, shaking her head. "I can't. Only... bad women drink liquor."

Well, wasn't she just little miss prissy prig? He'd change that. Oh, yes. Before he let her go, he was going to change a great many things. "Wine isn't liquor; it's wine. No civilized meal is complete without it."

She frowned, and as she tried to wrap her mind around that thought, he noticed how exhausted she was.

Not just dirty and scared, but truly exhausted. If it had been that hard to reach the Den, why had she tried at all?

Philo returned with a tray. He set a bowl in front of each of them that contained a small wet cloth, placed a dry hand towel beside the bowls, then put two glasses of red wine on the table and left.

Sebastian felt the tension inside him ease a little. Trust Philo to understand the female ego. The little rabbit wouldn't want to eat with dirty hands, but by providing towels for both of them, he wasn't commenting on Lynnea's appearance.

Plucking his towel from the bowl, Sebastian rubbed it over his hands, the movement releasing a light citrus scent. Lynnea watched for a moment, then copied him. She folded the towel neatly before putting it back in the bowl.

Folding his own towel, Sebastian leaned toward her and said, "You've got a smudge on your cheek." In truth, her whole face was dirty, but he wanted a reason to touch her that would seem innocent-to her mind, anyway. As he stroked the towel down her cheek, he had a lot of thoughts about that touch. None of them were innocent.

With a little coaxing, he got her to take a sip of the wine. By her third sip she didn't need coaxing anymore, and he felt relieved when Philo returned with two small plates, a basket full of chunks of bread, and the bowl of melted cheese. On an empty stomach, it wouldn't take much wine to get his little rabbit thoroughly sloshed, and he wanted her relaxed, not unconscious.

Sebastian looked at the basket and winced-a perfectly understandable response to seeing anything that was usually penis-shaped cut up into chunks.

Since she hesitated, he took a chunk of bread and swirled it in the cheese, then nodded for her to do the same. "Careful. The cheese is hot."

She picked a head out of the basket. Oh, she wouldn't know what it was, wouldn't associate its shape with anything male, but as he watched her swirl the head in the cheese, his pants suddenly felt too tight-and his heart gave a hard bump when her tongue darted out to catch the cheese dripping from the end. And when she blew on the head to cool the cheese enough to eat, he thought his skin would burst into flames.

She had no idea what she was doing-and it was killing him.

"This is good," she said, reaching for another piece.

He stuffed his own piece of bread and cheese in his mouth to keep from saying something erotic, suggestive, lewd. Desperate.

How was he supposed to think when his cock was throbbing and his brain couldn't get past how her mouth closed over the bread, how her mouth could close over his- Applause from the other tables startled both of them. Lynnea started to turn in her chair to see what people were responding to, but Philo was back, blocking her view as he set a plate on the table.

"Something to go with the house specialty," Philo said. "Stuffed Tits."

"What?" Lynnea raised a protective hand to her chest as she stared at the plate.

"Um... er... " Philo gave Sebastian a panicked look.

Lynnea frowned. "Those look like... mushrooms."

"Yes," Philo said quickly. "Stuffed mushrooms. Harmless."

She continued to study the mushrooms. "They do look like tits, don't they? Sort of round but pointy with the stuffing." She took one and put it on her plate. Then she picked up a piece of bread. "What do you call this stuff?"

Beads of sweat popped out on Philo's forehead. "Ah... Phallic Delights."

"What's 'phallic'?" she asked. Then she hiccuped.

Sebastian closed his eyes and tried not to moan. His little rabbit was sloshed on half a glass of wine, and watching her inhibitions fall away made him feel very peculiar. He should be reveling in how easy this had been. Instead he wanted to get her away from any bad influences. Which was funny, since he was an incubus, this was the Den, and he intended to be the baddest influence she met during this visit.

"It's a word polite young ladies don't know," Philo replied.

"Oh." Lynnea stared at the bread. "But I'm a bad person, so I can say that word. Phalllllic."

Someone from another table called, and Philo fled in response.

Sebastian opened his eyes and watched Lynnea swirl the bread in the cheese-and knew he was in trouble.

"Eat your mushroom," he said. Daylight! Now he sounded like a priggish older brother. What had happened to the desire to hunt, to hurt, to seduce her?

"Stuffed tit," she replied. Then she giggled.

The sound produced a heat inside him that bewildered him. It was like suddenly standing in a beam of sunlight-and that something inside him that was struggling to survive fed on the sound.

Having lost his appetite for food, he drank his wine while he watched her eat.

Finally she leaned back, took a sip of wine, and looked around. "This is a strange place."

It's the Den. "Why did you come here, Lynnea?"

"Wasn't supposed to. Was... supposed to go to the Landscapers' School, but Ewan left me on the side of the road, and..." She shuddered. "Don't want to think about that. Not now."

"All right," Sebastian said soothingly. "We won't talk about that." Yet. "Tell me how you got to the Den."

"Went over a bridge. Was trying..." Her eyes filled with tears. "He told me to come to him."

Sebastian's heart slammed against his chest. No. It couldn't be. "Who? Ewan?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. A voice inside my head. After Mam told me I was going to be sent away, I was just thinking, and..."

A tear rolled down her cheek. She whispered, "I just wanted to find a place where I would feel safe, where I wouldn't be afraid all the time. But I ended up here. So I guess I'm a bad person after all."

The Landscapers will send me to a had place. I just want- What? What do you want?

I want to he safe. I want to be loved. I want to he someplace where I'm not afraid all the time.

Come to me.

Guardians and Guides.

Pushing back his chair, Sebastian helped Lynnea to her feet, then led his jelly-legged little rabbit to the brothel that was on a side street two blocks away from Philo's. After getting his key from the clerk behind the counter in the lobby, he half carried Lynnea up the stairs and down the corridor to his room on the third floor.

Dark, heavy furniture. Red velvet curtains around the bed and the windows. The room was big enough to have a sitting area as well as the bed. No fireplace, but he had a connecting bathroom that he shared with Teaser, whose room also had a connecting door.

Masculine. Alien. A room designed for seduction and a sexual feast.

And there was Lynnea, with her torn, dirty clothes, looking more like an exhausted child than a woman ripe for a romp. Looking so out of place it made his heart hurt.

"What are you wearing under that?" he asked, gesturing to the tunic and skirt.

"A shift."

He hoped she was wearing more than that, but he wasn't going to ask.

He led her to the bathroom door, paused a moment to listen, then pushed the door open.

"An indoor privy," she said, sounding impressed. "I'd heard everyone has them in the cities now."

"We may be decadent, but we're not backward. We even have lektricity for the streetlights and in some parts of the buildings." And he'd never wondered until now why a place like the Den would have such things.

"I should take a bath."

She sounded hesitant-not about the bath but about being completely naked with a strange man on the other side of the door.

"You can take a bath later." When you won't Jail asleep in the tub and drown. "Just take care of your necessaries."

She blushed. He retreated.

He busied himself by pulling back the bedcovers and fluffing the pillows, keeping his mind focused on the simple tasks until he could get out of that room.

Why did he have to get out? In her current haze of exhaustion and wine, it wouldn't take much to have her mindless from sensual pleasure, and then he could feed on the emotions produced by thrilling her body.

That was what he wanted. Wasn't it?

When she came back into the bedroom a few minutes later, her face was clean-and she was wearing nothing but her shift.

Lust swam in his blood as soon as he saw her, but it was flavored by something else, something unfamiliar and delicate. Want and wariness tangled up inside him, making him desperate to get away from her long enough to think.

"Am I supposed to give you sex?" she asked in a small voice. Resigned. As if she expected her body to be used as a commodity.

That made him angry, which made no sense. But nothing was making any sense, so why should this be different?

He wanted to believe she was experienced, wanted to believe she was offering herself, wanted to believe he could unfurl the power of the incubi and feast on the pleasure he could make her feel.

But he couldn't look at her and believe any of those things. He also couldn't leave without doing something to ease the need gnawing inside him, so he walked up to her, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her softly.

Warm. Sweet. Innocent, but there was a banked sensuality that just needed encouragement in order to bloom.

But not now.

He tucked her into bed the way Nadia used to tuck him in, telling him without words that he was safe and welcome.

"Sleep now," he whispered.

Her eyes drifted shut. She was asleep before he stepped away from the bed.

Returning to Philo's, he ordered whiskey, then sat staring at the liquid in the glass.

I want to be safe. I want to be loved. I want to be someplace where I'm not afraid all the time.

Come to me.

No one came to the Den by mistake. By accident, certainly, but not by mistake.

Except his little rabbit was right-she didn't belong here, would never have found the Den if not for him.

Because it was that brief connection with him that had drawn her to the Den, had made it resonate in a way that made it possible for her to cross over.

His fault. His responsibility.

Teaser pulled out a chair and flopped into it. "Where's the country mouse?"

"Sleeping."

"That was quick."

Sebastian stared at Teaser until the other incubus stirred uneasily. "You're going to help me with something. A little game, you could call it."

"Sebastian, I don't think the mouse is ready for something more than a solo-"

He held up his hand. "This is what I want you to do." As he talked, Teaser's expression changed from uneasy to baffled. "Do you understand?"

"No," Teaser replied.

"Will you help?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"That's what I want."

Teaser studied him, then stood up. "I'll spread the word."

It didn't take long. Even though he couldn't see it from where he was sitting, he felt the waves of activity washing over the Den.

She was here because of him, and this much he could do for her. If he were a smart man, he would escort her to the Landscapers' School as soon as she woke up. But he didn't want to be a smart man. He wanted-needed-this small pocket of time. He had no influence in any other landscape, but here in the Den he could give her a few hours in a place where she wouldn't be afraid.

After that, he would take her to the school, knowing she would never find her way back to the Den.