He smiled grimly. Anger he knew all to well. Anger he could deal with. Anger at the MacPhearsons’ and his bastard cousin Alex. They had been beatin... her. As far as he could tell, they were trying to beat her into submission, not to death, or she would already be dead. He stood and looked down at her for a moment. He heart sang that she was alive, and that he had found her. His Rose, or Regan, what did that matter, she was alive! Anger burned a hole deep in his gut. He ground his teeth. And no hormones. No hormones now. 'No now' meant 'Yes later'. There was a remote control on his bedside table, half hidden bysome flowers. In an attempt to clear the devils of thought from hishead he switched on the TV set in the corner. The thought occurredto him that it might be out of the closed circuit of the HoldingWing. He should have known better, he reflected wearily as aprogramme celebrating the presenter's skill in disguising largishears by the astute choice of earrings flickered. More

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