It had been two weeks since Vlad had brought Jane to his mansion. She was now well into her recovery except for some residual stiffness and becoming easily exhausted. Jane was beginning to find the pampered life to which Vlad subjected her entirely too stifling. She was used to hunting down leads, and if she was lucky, bad guys. She didn't particularly enjoy lazing around in bed with unlimited magazines and books at her disposal. She had memorized every inch of his backyard, including the guard's rotation (if Vlad were nice to her she would mention the alarming predictability of his security team). She'd reorganized every single article of his clothing, more for her amusement than his convenience. And catalogued the contents of the bathroom. Twice.
She was over being an invalid. And when
