"Here's the way that this is going to go," Aidan said, turning so that Samar's body served as a shield between himself and the doorway. "As reparation for my having spent the past twenty-four hours locked inside a glorified jail cell, your men are going to provide me with the fastest car in your possession. If they try to take me down, you'd better believe that you're going out with me." Aidan grinned coldly, even though he knew Samar couldn't see the expression. "Now, instruct them to open the door."

"Open the door," Samar called, his muscles remaining loose and at the ready. The door swung inwards, and the men on the other side of it froze at the sight of their leader with a knife pressed to his carotid artery.

"Lower your guns," Aidan said.

The men hesitated, and Aidan angled his blade farther against Samar's throat. One by one, the weapons clattered to the cement floor, and Aidan nudged Samar forward.

"Escort me to your garages," Aidan said, his voice ringing sharply out in the tense silence. "If I sense so much as the slightest movement made against me, I won't hesitate to slit your leader's throat. And I doubt that Raven would be very happy with any of you then, would she?"

Several of the men paled minutely, but the majority of them scoffed, muttering threats and expletives under their breath. Finally and reluctantly, the men made room for Aidan and Samar to emerge into the hallway.

Aidan smiled thinly. "Thank you."

The men set off down the hallway and Aidan steered himself and Samar after them. Several minutes and two flights of stairs later, the men stopped, parting before Aidan and Samar. Aidan stepped forward, head high and blade poised at Samar's throat, daring any of the men to make a move against him.

He surveyed the cars with a selective gaze. "That one." He nodded to a sleek black Corvette. "Where are the keys?"

Collectively, the men turned to stare silently at Samar, and Aidan bit back a grin.

"My pocket," Samar answered, his facade of nonchalance belied only slightly by the stiff undertone to his words.

"If you will retrieve them for me? Slowly, now," Aidan cautioned lazily as Samar slid his hand into his pocket in a measured, deliberate movement. He removed it with the same amount of wary indolence, a key ring dangling unobtrusively from his index finger. "My palm, please," Aidan said, holding out a hand.

Samar released the keys into Aidan's grip, the muscle twitching at his jaw the only evidence of his displeasure.

"Thank you," Aidan responded crisply, before turning to Samar's men. "I want all of you to remain here. Samar will accompany me down to his car to ensure your continued cooperation, right down until the moment when I drive away. As a matter of convenience, please raise the garage door now."

In the eyes of the men facing him was an amalgam of fear and loathing, and it was an expression that Aidan had seen many times before. Rarely, however, was it directed towards him; far more often, Kieran was the recipient.

Aidan directed Samar down the steps that led into the garage as the door cranked slowly upwards, revealing a twilit view of a near-deserted side street. Ten paces later, they were standing next to the Corvette's driver's-side door, which Aidan unlocked with one hand, the other remaining firmly at Samar's throat. After he'd opened the door, Aidan tossed the keys onto the seat, repositioning himself behind Samar.

"I'm not at all sorry for this," he said, as he slammed his fist into Samar's temple.

A muffled outcry came from the cluster of Samar's men, but they didn't make a move towards Aidan, knowing that he could still slit their unconscious leader's throat if he was so inclined.

Without another glance towards the men, Aidan stepped into the Corvette, turning the keys in the ignition. The engine purred on, and Aidan stepped down onto the gas pedal in a fluid motion. The Corvette sped out of the garage and into the street, and Aidan took the first freeway exit that he came across.

He found himself driving across the Bay Bridge from San Francisco, into the city of Oakland. Aidan grinned in knowing satisfaction when he found a burner phone while rummaging through the glovebox, dialing a number into it with one hand.

"Where are you?" Kieran answered, with his customary lack of greeting.

At the sound of his brother's voice, all of the events of the past two days slammed back into Aidan with renewed vigor, and a heavy, exhaustive weight seemed to settle on his shoulders.

"Oakland. I've been held by Ismael Samar and his men for the past twenty-four hours. I escaped less than an hour ago." The chuckle that escaped Aidan's lips was rough with helpless disbelief. "I can't believe I'm saying this, Kieran, but be careful. Raven is good--better than I gave her credit for," he added, with a trace of bitter, rueful self-loathing.

A moment passed before Kieran answered. "I won't make your mistake," his brother said, before changing the subject abruptly. "Meet me in Los Angeles, at Flynn's. We should arrive within an hour of each other."

Aidan nodded automatically, despite knowing that Kieran could not see him. "What's the plan, Kieran?" he asked, voice low and thick with a desire for requital.

"Not now," his brother responded. "I'll see you soon," he added, and the line clicked off.

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A/N:

This is such a nice, long chapter, darlings; I'm quite proud of myself. Also, it shows you a whole different side of Aidan's personality, and even though it doesn't appear often, you can be assured that it exists. After all, Aidan and Kieran are brothers, and while the ruthless, scornful streak runs far heavier in one than the other, it's not completely devoid from Aidan's character. I hope you enjoyed this installment, and that you'll vote if you did! Comment and/or PM me if you wish, as well, and have a wonderful rest of your day/night ^^;