Once Julian saw the convenience store, he knew he was saved. Realistically, he knew that he probably wouldn’t have wandered the desert until his death; the desert wasn’t big enough and his navigation skills weren’t poor enough for that. Yet, in the beginning of his harrowing escape, he legitimately thought that he had gotten himself turned around too much to help himself. Now, seeing the dusty little building standing there, it felt as though he had found an oasis, and in a way, it really was.

 

He thought that he was going to be the most shocking thing to walk into the store that day, but as he walked into the parking lot and set eyes on the bloody girl on the motorcycle, he realized that this was just going to be par for the course for them.

 

The girl looked familiar, but not as familiar as the vest she was wearing, and Julian’s eyes grew wide as he realized that it was the girl that Griffin had met in the bar. Quickly hanging up her phone, she took a moment to smooth her hair down and say something nervously to herself. Clearly, in her blood-soaked state, she had been through something nearly as terrible as what Julian just escaped from, and so he took a step forward towards her in order to commiserate.

 

“Excuse me…” He kept his voice even, normal, but her eyes snapped up, and she looked at him with a wild and dangerous expression.

 

“I have a gun,” she whispered to him. “You won’t be the first traitor Disciple I kill today.”

 

“Whoa!” Julian took a step back and raised his hands in the classic gesture of surrender. “I’m no traitor. I know Griffin. He’s my best buddy.”

 

She hadn’t pulled the gun, probably because of the people watching from inside the store. Julian gave her some credit for that. She was pretty hot, but he had always thought that, and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder what Desiree would look like stretched across a bike instead of this blonde. Her look of distrust faded as she studied his face.

 

“You’re the guy who was at the bar,” she said.

 

“Yes, Griffin asked me to be there to make sure no one got the drop on you. He’s…he was, like a brother to me.”

 

The mention of Griffin again put the girl on edge. “Can you tell me how to get the Los Diablos clubhouse?”

 

Julian shook his head. “You don’t want to go there.”

 

“I have to. Griffin’s there. I just spoke to him. The place is on fire as you can probably see.”

 

She nodded to the horizon from where he had come, and Julian followed. There, he could see a plume of smoke in the sky. His heart fell, and yet, there was hope.

 

“You spoke to him?”

 

“I just got off the phone, but he doesn’t have a lot of time, and I don’t want to go driving off into the desert to find him. So can you help?”

 

Julian nodded and gave instruction on how to get there as quickly as he could, his eyes roaming the parking lot for an acceptable car to steal.

 

“I’m coming with you,” he said, as she nodded and revved her engine. She looked at him with eyes the color of cold honey, shaking her head.

 

“No, you look half dead. Go inside and get some water. Once I get Griffin to a hospital, I’ll contact you, okay? We’ll need all the help we can get.”

 

Julian wanted to protest, but the look in the girl’s eyes made him think twice about doing something like that. She looked like she was on the warpath, and the last thing Julian wanted to do at that moment was get in her way.

 

“Okay. What’s your name? Mine’s Julian.”

 

“Natasha,” she replied. “It’s Natasha Morrison.”

 

Everything fell into place for Julian then. His mouth dropped open in shock, but before he could say anything to the strange woman who had just outed herself as an obvious relative of Emanuel Morrison, she had popped a wheelie and driven out of the parking lot. Julian stood there for a shocked moment before entering the store, feeling complete confident that no matter what happened, that girl was going to crush whoever stood in her way.

 

Julian took comfort in that, and he walked to the back of the store, ignoring the stares, to get a bottle of water.

 

***

 

Natasha knew that she should be scared. Griffin didn’t sound very good on the phone, and from the look on Julian’s face as he had walked into the parking lot, she had a feeling that things weren’t very good for anyone at the moment. Luckily, the directions put her at only five minutes away if she really gunned the bike, and she thanked whatever lucky stars were in the sky at that moment that that particular loyal Disciple had chosen to go into that particular store.

 

The worst thought that came to mind was that she was going to have to beat the cops and get Griffin out before they arrived and asked too many question. The thought came to her in a completely natural way, as though she had been thinking about that sort of thing her entire life, but for the moment, if it was to save Griffin, she would roll with it.

 

Daylight was beginning to fade, which was fine by her. The cover of night would hide her and Griffin a lot better as they drove.

 

That was… if he was still alive. Her heart began to sink as she saw the burning house, complete with burning corpses stretched out on the front lawn. She wasn’t so idiotic as to believe that this had been entirely the work of the Los Diablos, why would they burn their own clubhouse?

 

Leaping off the bike, she had to stop herself from running into the house immediately, choosing instead to remain calm and walk calmly around the perimeter. Was he trapped inside? Was he one of the burning corpses and she had just been too late? That didn’t seem likely, and it wasn’t until she made it around the back of the house that she saw the still form of Griffin, laying in the dirt a couple of yards away.

 

Clearly, he had dragged himself there and had given up, and Natasha pressed two fingers to the side of his neck in a nervous attempt to find any sign of life. His pulse was weak, but it was there, and she nearly cried out in relief when she realized it. Griffin had collapsed on his stomach, and with a little difficulty, Natasha managed to roll him onto his back. His bright blue eyes were open, and as he looked up at her face, a weak smile crept across his lips.

 

“I knew you’d get here,” he said. She leaned down and hugged him closely. He smelled like blood and smoke from the fire, but she was so damn happy to see him alive. He was clearly still bleeding, and he shoved his fist into a wound on his chest in an attempt to stop it. Natasha’s stomach turned.

 

“That’s it,” she said and worked to move him. “I’m getting you to a hospital.”

 

“I can’t,” Griffin groaned. “Damon. Damon can’t know that I’m alive. Zachariah.”

 

“Zachariah?”

 

Griffin slung an arm around her shoulders, as the two of them struggled to walk back to Natasha’s bike. He nodded at her.

 

“Yes, Zachariah, medic. Surgeon for the Disciples.”

 

“I don’t think we can trust the Disciples right now,” Natasha replied. “One of them just tried to kill me.”

 

Griffin reached out and touched the bloodied vest of the Disciple that Natasha had killed, feeling the stiffness of the blood on the leather. He searched her with worry, only to quickly realize that the blood did not belong to her. After that, he gave an appreciative smile.

 

“Me too. Zachariah is different though; he’s neutral, just likes to help.”

 

Natasha had a heavy heart about the entire thing, but what else could she do? Griffin knew about this world a lot more than she did, and if he thought Zachariah was trustworthy, he probably was.

 

“Okay, but you’re going to have to ride on the back of the bike. You’re too big for me to see if you ride in front of me, and there’s no way I’m letting you drive in your condition.”

 

Griffin coughed a little. “Fair enough.”

 

She helped him onto the bike and slipped in front of him, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close to him. Natasha’s heart fluttered at the nearness of him, that old familiar longing began to blossom between her legs once more. It wasn’t time though, at least not now, and instead, she just laughed it off.

 

“Don’t fall off, okay?”

 

Griffin gave a pained chuckle.

 

“I’ve been riding bikes for years, and I’ve never fallen off once.”

 

Natasha revved the engine and gave a grin in spite of herself.

 

“Watch it,” she told him. “There’s a first time for everything.”