"A word of warning," Bridget said as she turned into the keep's parking garage. "You are going to have a lot of visitors."

The drive had taken twice as long because of Victor's insistence on evasive maneuvers. Despite his injuries, he'd kept turning and looking behind them to check if they were followed.

Turner shifted in his seat, adjusting the pillow the nice nurse had given him to put behind his back. "Like who?"

"Kian, Anandur and Brundar. Andrew when he comes back from work, and I wouldn't be surprised if the other Guardians who helped in the search would want to come see who the big fuss was about."

"Anandur and Brundar saw me at the hospital."

"But you didn't let them ask you any questions. They will want details about what happened to you." Anandur had wanted to start the interrogation when they had parted ways in the parking lot, but Turner had insisted that it wasn't safe to talk yet.

He glanced at the loose sweatpants his assistant had brought for him. "Can you ask them not to come? I don't feel like meeting people dressed like this."

Bridget chuckled. "You don't feel like meeting people, period. But you will have to pretend that you do." She cast him a knowing sidelong glance. "You're very good at that."

Turner nodded. "I can be if I want to, but why bother? Fortunately, in my line of business, charm is not a requirement. People expect me to be ruthless and accept my lack of personality."

Bridget pulled into her parking spot and cut the engine. "You hide it behind an indifferent façade, but you have a rich personality."

Turner opened the passenger door and carefully swung his legs out. "Are you sure about that? My wide range of knowledge makes me interesting to talk to. I might be an empty vessel on the inside."

She ignored his self-deprecating comment. He was just fishing for compliments. Grabbing the pillow from the passenger seat, she got out and closed the door.

"Aren't you going to lock it?" Turner asked.

"We are in the clan's private parking garage. No one is going to steal it."

Bridget walked around to where he was waiting for her and took his hand. "Our brains are highly adaptive." She led him toward the elevators. "If you spend most of your time and focus solving complicated problems, then that's what your brain specializes in. Accomplishing mastery in one subject often diminishes other capabilities. In your case, your social and emotional development has been sacrificed on the altar of your analytical genius."

With a frown, Turner followed her inside the elevator. "That's an interesting way to put it. Are you saying that there is nothing wrong with me?"

Bridget stretched up and kissed his cheek, then leaned against the elevator's wall and crossed her arms over her chest. "People make judgments about other people by comparing them to some accepted standard average which they consider the norm. The thing is, no one fits that mold."

She opened the door to her apartment and motioned for Turner to get in. "Most people, humans and immortals alike, cluster around that center. The further one deviates from that cluster, the stranger he or she seems to others. That doesn't mean there is anything wrong with them. Take every genius in any field, put them on that spectrum, and you'll find that they are very far from the center."

Turner shuffled to the couch and sat down gingerly. Bridget put the soft pillow behind his back, and he leaned against it with a sigh. "I hope this will get better by tomorrow."

"You should have taken the painkillers instead of playing macho."

"It's not about machismo. Pain medications dull my thinking. I can't stand it. I'd rather suffer the pain than the mental haze."

She smiled. "You see? You've just proven my point. You are willing to sacrifice physical comfort just so you can think clearly."

"Thank you for the positive spin, but the fact remains that I'm odd and incapable of forming relationships with others."

Bridget pulled two cans of ginger ale from the fridge and handed him one. "I admit that it would be difficult for you, but it's not impossible."

Turner popped the lid and took a sip. "I don't see how. I have a hard time relating to what others are feeling, and I have very little empathy."

She sat next to him. "But you recognize and understand feelings, that's your coping mechanism. You can adapt your behavior accordingly."

He lifted a brow. "Are you suggesting that I fake it?"

"Sometimes faking it is half the journey. When you force a smile, it affects your brain, and your mood improves."

"No one can fake love."

Bridget shrugged. "Romantic love is overrated."

He took another sip from his can. "You're probably the only woman on the planet who thinks like that."

"That's because I'm also an analytical creature. Maybe not as extreme as you are, but somewhere on that spectrum. Give me a smart and reliable man who I can have an intelligent conversation with, and I'll take him over one who is ruled by his emotions any day and twice on Sunday."

"What about passion?"

She smirked. "You mean sex?"

"Yes."

"That's important too. But love is not a prerequisite for amazing sex." She smirked. "I think we've proven that already."

As Turner's sweatpants tented, he grabbed a decorative pillow to cover his reaction. "That we did."

His embarrassment was endearing.

Bridget tugged on the pillow. "Don't hide from me. I love seeing the effect I have on you."

Shaking his head, he let her take the pillow away. "You're unlike any woman I've ever encountered."

"Thank you. I like being different."

Putting her hand on his inner thigh, Bridget leaned toward him, but when she was a fraction of an inch from making contact with his lips, a knock on the door halted her progress. "Damn it. What timing."

Turner grabbed the pillow she'd tossed away and put it back in his lap. "We could ignore it."

With a sigh, Bridget pushed to her feet. "I know my family. Whoever is out there will just keep knocking."

A more insistent knock proved it.

"Coming!" Bridget walked over to the door and pulled it open. "Come in, guys." She let Kian and the brothers in.

Kian walked over to Turner and offered him his hand. "We thought you were a goner. I'm glad you're still with us."

"Me too."

Kian took a seat across from Turner and crossed his legs at the ankles. "What happened? For you to get ambushed like that it must've been one hell of a setup."

"Don't worry. The breach in security wasn't mine. They were smart and infiltrated my client's network, but in the final analysis it was my fault. I got a message from my client to meet him at a restaurant, and I didn't call back to verify it was him. They used a very good actor to mimic his voice."

"Are you sure it wasn't your client who set you up?"

"Positive. We have a long-standing business relationship, and I just completed a successful extraction of a family member for him. Whoever did it, wanted to send my client a message. The only way they could find out who I was and how to contact me was by getting into his email or phone communications. Not an easy task, since the guy employs the best protocols. They must have a very good hacker."

"We have an excellent one too," Brundar said. "Maybe we can have him snoop around and find out who did it. The community of super-hackers is small. They probably all know of each other."

Turner shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline. My clients trust me to keep their identities and my connections to them confidential. Once I get on my feet again, so to speak, I'll investigate this myself."

"Anything we can help with, just say the word," Kian offered.

"In fact, there is one thing. The homeless guy who drove me to the hospital. I would like to find him to thank him and reward him."

"If you know where they dumped you, we can have our guy check for surveillance cameras in the area and go over the footage. But I doubt he would find anything. Last night, he already went through every possible camera in the area."

"On second thoughts, that's too much effort. I'll take care of it myself."

Kian nodded. "As you wish. If my guy can find your man in under two hours of work, then I wouldn't mind him giving it another go. But I wouldn't put more resources into the search."

"Thank you. That's more than generous. But I think I can handle it on my own. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. As it is, I owe you guys a debt of gratitude."

Kian waved a hand. "Forget about it. That's what friends are for. I'm sure you would've come searching for me if the roles were reversed."

Turner chuckled. "Only if I were paid for it."

Bridget wasn't sure he'd meant it as a joke. She was about to poke him for it when another knock sounded.

"That must be Okidu." Kian stood up and walked over to the door. "I asked him to bring refreshments."