Seto didn't believe his eyes.

He was just about to climb up the giant oak tree when the window opened and something hard hit him on his shoulder. A quick glance revealed it to be a silver and blue butterfly knife. He dodged the other item and moved deeper into the shadows. The moonlight gave him sufficient lighting to see Victoire when she climbed out on the ledge. He was about to shout a warning, certain she was about to break her neck, when she suddenly jumped.

He raced forward to catch her.

Victoire caught hold of a fat branch and held on for dear life. She said another prayer to keep herself from crying out. Then she waited until she quit swinging back and forth so violently and slowly wiggled her way toward the trunk.

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God." She whispered that litany all the way down the tree. Her skirt got tangled up in another branch, and by the time her feet finally touched the ground the hem of her skirt had worked its way up and over her head.

Victoire righted her skirt and let out a long, ragged sigh. "There now," She whispered to herself. "That wasn't so bad after all."

She knelt down on the ground, gathered up her possessions, mumbling all the while, and then wasted precious minutes pulling twigs and leaves from her ponytail. After slipping the knife and spray inside her pocket, she walked to the front of the house. Victoire stopped quite suddenly, certain she heard a sound behind her. Yet when she whirled around she didn't see anything but trees and shadows. Her imagination was getting the better of her, she decided. It was probably just her own heartbeat making all the ruckus in her ears.

"Where in the hell is Pierre?" Victoire muttered to herself a short time later.

The man was supposed to be waiting for her in the shadows next to the front stoop. Pierre promised to escort her to her Uncle Remy Delacour's townhouse. Something must have happened to waylay him, she decided.

Another ten minutes passed before Victoire accepted the fact that Pierre wasn't going to return to fetch her. She didn't dare wait any longer. There was too much risk of being found out. Since her return trip from Japan, Louis has taken to the habit of looking in on her during the night. There would be hell to pay when he learned she'd run away again. The very thought of the consequences made Victoire shiver.

Uncle Remy's townhouse was just three short blocks away. It shouldn't take her any time at all to walk over there. She would fare all right, Victoire told herself as she hurried down the street. If anyone tried to waylay her, she'd use her knife as a means to defend herself. She was determined to go to any length to save her Aunt Mei from having to spend one more night under her uncle's sadistic supervision. Victoire ran like lightning the first full block. A stitch in her side forced her to slow down to a more sedate pace. She relaxed a little when she realized she was quite safe. There didn't seem to be anyone else on the streets that night, and she smiled over that blessing.

Seto followed behind. He wanted to appease his curiosity before he grabbed his bride, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the wharf. In the back of his mind was the irritating thought that she might be trying to run away from him again. He discarded that notion as foolish, for she couldn't possibly know about his well thought out plans to kidnap her.

Where was she going? He mulled that question over in his mind while he continued to trail her.

She did have gumption, though. He found that revelation astonishing, since she was raised a Delacour. Yet she'd already shown him a glimpse of real courage. He'd heard her cry out in obvious fear when she'd thrown herself off that ledge. The woman had gotten herself caught up in the branches, too, then prayed her way down to the ground in a low, fervent voice that had made him smile. He'd gotten a healthy view of her long, shapely legs while she was in such an unseemly position and had to restrain himself from laughing out loud.

Seto couldn't believe her naivete. If she'd only bothered to look behind her, she certainly would have seen him. She never bothered to look back. His bride rounded the first corner, passed a dark alley at a brisker pace, then slowed down again.

Victoire didn't go unnoticed. Two burly men, their weapons at the ready, slithered out of their makeshift home like snakes. Seto was right behind them. He made certain they heard his approach, then waited until they were turning around to confront him before he slammed their heads together. He tossed the garbage back into the alley, his gaze directed on Victoire all the while. The way his bride strolled down the street should be illegal, he thought to himself. The sway of her hips was too damn enticing.

Just then he saw another movement in the shadows ahead. He rushed forward to save her once again. She'd just turned the second corner when his fist slammed into her would-be attacker's face. He assumed she was going to call on her Uncle Remy Delacour when she paused on the bottom step of his residence and stared up at the dark windows a long while. Of all her relatives, Seto thought Remy was the most disreputable, and he couldn't come up with a single logical reason why his bride would want to call on that good-for-nothing bastard in the middle of the night.

It quickly became clear Victoire wasn't there for a visit. Seto came to that conclusion when she crept around to the side of the townhouse. He followed her, then lounged against the side gate to keep other intruders out. He folded his arms across his chest and relaxed his stance while he watched her fight her way through the shrubs and breach the house through the window.

It was the most inept break-in he'd ever witnessed.

She spent at least ten minutes working the window all the way up. Victoire thought she was being quite clever when she used her butterfly knife as a jimmy to open the window. Getting in through a window proved to be far more difficult than getting out through one. She fairly knocked the wind out of herself before she finally made it. She wasn't at all graceful, either. When Seto heard the loud thud he decided his bride had landed on either her head or her ass. He waited only a minute or two before he silently climbed in after her.

He made a mental note to work with her on her stealth once he got her back to Japan. Seto adjusted to the darkness quickly. Victoire didn't make the adjustment quite as swiftly, however. He heard a loud crash that sounded like glass hitting stone, followed by an unladylike expletive. Damn, she was loud.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Seto strolled into the foyer just in time to see Victoire rush up the steps to the second story.

A tall, willow-thin man he assumed was one of the servants drew his attention. The man looked laughable. Unfortunately, Seto wasn't in a laughing mood. The man was dressed in a plaid knee-length nightshirt with a matching nightcap on his head. He carried an ornately carved candlestick in one hand and a large crust of bread in the other. The servant lifted the candlestick above his head and started up the steps after Victoire. Seto chopped him on the back of his neck, reached over his head to take the candlestick out of his hand so it wouldn't make a clatter when it hit the floor, then dragged the servant into a dark alcove adjacent to the stairs. He stood next to the crumpled form a long minute while he listened to all the racket coming from above the stairs.

Victoire would never make a proper thief. He heard the doors being slammed shut and knew it was his bride making all the noise. She was going to wake the neighbors and the dead, if she didn't quiet down.

A shrill scream filled the air. Seto let out a long suffering sigh. He started toward the stairs to save the woman once again, then suddenly stopped when she appeared at the landing. She wasn't alone. He moved back into the alcove and waited. He now understood the reason for her errand. His bride had her arm around another woman's stooped shoulders and was assisting her down the stairs. He couldn't see the other woman's face, but he could tell from her slow, hesitant walk that she was in terrible pain.

"Please don't cry, Mei," Victoire whispered. "Everything's going to be fine now. I'm going to take good care of you." When the pair reached the foyer, she leaned forward to kiss her aunt on her forehead.

"I knew you would come for me, honey. I never doubted. I knew in my heart that you would find a way to help me." Mei's voice cracked with emotion. She mopped at the corners of her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Seto noticed the dark bruises on her wrists. He recognized those marks. The older woman had obviously been tied up, and that knowledge made him furious on the women's behalf. Which was a strange thing, for sure, considering he didn't know her from the neighbors down the street.

Victoire reached up to adjust the pins in her aunt's hair. "Of course you knew I would come for you," She whispered. "I love you, Aunt Mei. I would never let anything happen to you. There," She made her voice as cheerful as possible, "your hair looks lovely again."

Mei grasped Victoire's hand. "Whatever would I do without you, child?"

"That's a silly worry," Victoire answered. She kept her voice soothing, for she knew her aunt was in jeopardy of losing all control. She was actually in much the same condition. When she'd seen the bruises on her aunt's face and arms she'd wanted to weep.

"You came here to France because I asked you to," She reminded her aunt. "I thought you would have a happy reunion with my mother, but I was wrong. This atrocity is all my fault, Mei. Besides, you must know you're never going to have to do without me."

"You're such a dear child," Mei answered.

Victoire's hand shook when she reached for the door lock. "How did you find me?" Mei asked from behind.

"It doesn't matter now," Victoire answered. She worked the lock free and opened the door. "We're going to have all the time in the world to visit after we've boarded the ship. I'm taking you back to your home in Japan, Mei."

"Oh, I can't leave France just yet."

Victoire turned around to look at her aunt. "What do you mean, you can't leave just yet? Everything's been arranged, Mei. I've booked passage with the last of my funds. Please don't shake your head at me. Now isn't the time to turn difficult. We have to leave tonight. It's much too dangerous for you to stay here."

"Remy took my wedding band," Mei explained. She shook her head again. The cluster of hair at the top of her head immediately sagged to one side. "I won't leave without it. My Kaito, rest his soul, gave me orders never to take it off the day we were wed fourteen years ago. I can't go home without my wedding band, Tori. It's too precious to me."

"Yes, we must find it," Victoire agreed when her aunt started to weep again. She was alarmed by the wheeze in her aunt's voice, too. The dear woman was obviously having difficulty catching her breath. "Do you have any idea where Uncle Remy might have hidden it?"

"That's easy," Mei answered with a sniff. She leaned against the banister in an effort to ease the ache in her chest, then said, "He didn't bother to hide it. He's wearing it on his little finger. Sporting it like a trophy, he is. Now, if we could determine where your uncle is drinking tonight, we could fetch the band back."

Victoire nodded. Her stomach started aching at the thought of what she was going to have to do. "I know where he is," She said. "Pierre has been following him. Now, are you up to a short walk to the corner of the block? I didn't dare order the taxi to wait out front for fear Uncle Remy would come home early."

"Of course I'm up to a walk," She answered. Mei moved away from the banister. Her gait was stiff as she slowly made her way to the door. "Heavens," she whispered. "If your mother could see me now, she'd die of shame. I'm about to take a walk in the dead of night dressed in my nightgown."

Victoire smiled. "We aren't going to tell my mother, though, are we? This will be our little secret." She let out a gasp when she saw her aunt grimace. "You're in terrible pain, aren't you?"

"Nonsense," Mei scoffed. "I'm already feeling much better. Come along now," She ordered in a brisker tone. "We mustn't linger here, child." She clutched the rail and started down the steps. "It will take more than that damn Delacour to do me in."

Victoire started to pull the door shut behind her, then changed her mind. "I believe I shall leave this door wide open in the hope that someone will come along and help himself to Uncle Remy's possessions. I won't get my hopes up, though," She added. "There didn't seem to be any criminals on the streets tonight. On my walk over here I saw not a one."

"Good Lord, you actually walked over here?" Aunt Mei asked, clearly appalled.

"I did," Victoire answered. There was a hint of pride in her voice. "I kept my guard up, of course, so you can quit your frowning. I didn't have to use my butterfly knife or my pepper spray not once to fend off anyone with ill intentions, either."

"I'll hold onto you while we make this short walk. You really walked over here, Tori?"

She laughed. "To tell you the truth, I ran most of the way. I was frightened, Mei, but I made the journey without mishap. Do you know, I believe all this talk about our streets being so unsafe is just exaggeration."

The two ladies strolled arm in arm down the dark, narrow street, Victoire's laughter trailing behind them. The taxi was waiting for them at the corner. Victoire was assisting her aunt inside the black vehicle when a hopeful assailant came rushing toward them. Seto intervened by simply moving forward into the moonlight. The man took one look at him, did a hasty turnaround, and ran back into the shadows again.

He thought the woman might have gotten a look at him. She had glanced back over her shoulder just when he'd moved forward, but he decided her eyesight must have dimmed with age when she turned around again without shouting a warning to her niece.

Victoire hadn't noticed his presence. She had a heated discussion over the fare with the driver, finally agreed to his exorbitant fee, and then joined her aunt inside the vehicle. The taxi was in motion when Seto grabbed hold of the back rail and swung himself up on the ledge. The vehicle rocked from the added weight before picking up speed again.

She was certainly making her own kidnapping easy work. Seto had heard her tell her aunt that they would be leaving France by ship. He therefore assumed their destination was the wharf. Then the vehicle veered off onto one of the side streets near the waterfront and came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the most notorious taverns in the city.

She was going after that wedding band, he guessed with a growl of frustration. Seto jumped down from the ledge and moved into the light further behind the taxi. He wanted the men loitering in front of the tavern to get a good look at him. He braced his legs apart for a fight, moved his right hand to the hilt of the coiled whip hooked to his belt, and scowled at the sizable group.

They noticed him. Three of the smaller ones slowly edged their way back inside. The other four leaned back against the stone wall. They kept their gazes directed at the ground.

The driver climbed out, received fresh instructions, and hurried inside. He came back outside a scant minute later, muttered that he'd best be getting a giant bonus for all the trouble he'd had to endure, and then got back in the vehicle.

Another few minutes elapsed before the door of the tavern opened again. A sour-faced man with a grossly distended belly came outside. He was dressed in rumpled, soiled clothing that was ripe from wear. The stranger slicked his greasy hair back from his brow in a pitiful attempt at grooming as he swaggered over to the taxi.

"My employer, Remy Delacour, is too drunk to come outside," He announced, then added. "We come to this part of town when we don't want to be noticed. I'm here in his stead, ma'am. Your driver said there be a woman in need of something, and I'm thinking I'm just the man you're needing."

The disgusting man scratched his groin while he eagerly waited for a reply to his offer.

The stench radiating from the foul-smelling man came in through the window. Victoire almost gagged in reaction. She placed her hand over her nose, turned to her aunt, and whispered, "Do you know this man?"

"I most certainly do," Her aunt answered. "His name's Clifford Robitaille, dear, and he's the one who helped your uncle waylay me."

"Did he ever strike you?"

"Yes, dear, he did," Mei answered. "Several times, as a matter of fact."

The man under discussion couldn't see inside the dark vehicle. He leaned forward to get a better look at his prize. Seto walked over to the side of the taxi. His intent was to tear the man limb from limb for daring to leer at his bride—he was tempted to rip him apart just for scratching himself in her presence. He stopped when he saw the fist fly through the open window and connect quite soundly between the man's eyes.

Clifford hadn't been prepared for the attack. He let out a howl of pain, staggered backwards, and tripped over his own feet. He landed with a thud on his knees. While he spewed one crude blasphemy after another he diligently tried to regain his feet.

Victoire pressed her advantage. She threw the door open, catching the man in his midsection. He did a near somersault before landing in the gutter on his backside.

The men lounging against the wall hooted in appreciation of the spectacle they'd just witnessed. She ignored her audience as she climbed out of the taxi. She was simply too infuriated to be afraid. She stood over her victim looking every bit like an avenging angel. Her voice shook with fury when she said, "If you ever mistreat a lady again, Clifford, I swear to God you'll die a slow, agonizing death."

"I ain't never mistreated a lady," Clifford whined. He was trying to catch his breath and his bearings so he could pounce her. "How would you be knowing my name?"

Mei leaned out the window. "You're a shameful liar, Clifford," She called out. "You're going to burn in hell for all your sins."

Clifford's eyes widened in astonishment. "How did you get out—"

Victoire interrupted his question by giving his foot a sound kick. He turned his gaze back to her. His expression screamed insolence. "You think you got the meat to hurt me, la chienne?" He sneered. He glanced back at the men leaning against the wall. In truth, the man was more humiliated than injured by her paltry attack. The snickers echoing behind him stung far more than her little slap.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, Clifford?" Victoire asked. "My husband is going to hear about this atrocity, and he will certainly retaliate." She snapped her fingers for effect. "Oh, I see I've gotten your full attention with that promise." She added with a nod when Clifford's expression changed. The man looked downright terrified. He had quit trying to regain his feet and was scooting backward on his backside.

Victoire was pleased with herself. Her threat to Clifford had worked quite well. She didn't realize that Clifford had just gotten a good look at her aforementioned husband, standing a scant ten feet behind her. She thought she'd just put the fear of a Kaiba into the servant.

"Tori, honey," Mei called out. "Would you like me to accompany you inside?"

She didn't take her gaze off Clifford when she gave her aunt answer. "No. You aren't dressed for the occasion. I won't be long."

"Hurry, then," Mei called out. "You'll catch a chill, dear."

Mei continued to lean out the window, but her gaze was directed at Seto. He returned her wide-eyed stare with a brisk nod and a grin before turning his full attention back to his bride.

She was quick to notice how the tall man was keeping the hounds at bay. His mere height was intimidating. It didn't take her any time at all to realize he was actually providing safety for Victoire. She thought about calling a warning to her niece, then discarded the notion. Her niece had enough to worry about. She would wait to mention the savior when she was finished with her important errand.

Seto kept his attention on Victoire. His bride was certainly full of surprises. He was having difficulty coming to terms with that fact. He'd seen what cowards the Delacour's were. The men in the family always did their dirty work under cover of darkness, or when a man's back was turned. His Tori, however, wasn't acting at all like a Delacour. She was courageous in her defense of the old woman. And damn, he's never seen her in such a fury. Seto didn't think he would have been surprised if she'd pulled out a pistol and shot her victim between his eyes. She was definitely angry enough.

Victoire skirted the servant, paused to give him a good glare, and then hurried on inside the tavern.

Seto immediately went over to Clifford. He grabbed him by his neck, lifted him high into the air, and then flung him against the stone wall. His audience scattered like rats to avoid being hit. Clifford struck the wall with a loud splat, then crumpled to the ground in a dead faint.

"Young man?" Mei called out. "I do believe you'd better go inside now. My Tori is bound to need your assistance yet again."

Seto turned to scowl at the woman who dared to issue him an order. Just then the whistles and hoots of laughter coming from inside the tavern gained his full attention. With a growl of frustration over what he considered a damned inconvenience, he slowly uncoiled his whip and walked toward the door.