Page 18 of Fateful Reunion

When the crystal dropped to a spot on the map, drawn to it like metal to a magnet, he bent over the map. Golden Gate Park.

Charles rose and packed away his tools, slipped on his jacket, and listened for sounds from downstairs. It was quiet, but he knew the vampires were awake. Earlier, he’d heard Zane leaving the house to do a perimeter check. He was back now, pacing the downstairs hallway. No human would be able to leave the house without him knowing, for a vampire’s hearing was so sensitive, it would pick up any sound.

While Charles didn’t move as stealthily as a vampire, he had other skills. A silencing spell made sure no sound left his bedroom while he slid open the window and peered outside. The house was built on a steep hill, and though he was on the second floor, the drop on this side of the house was less than ten feet. Charles hoisted himself through the window, lowered himself, then let go of the window sill and dropped down into the overgrown garden. For a moment he remained frozen, listening intently, but nothing moved inside the house.

It didn’t take long to reach the main road. No sign of a taxi or other transportation. It didn’t matter. From what he’d gathered from the map, he was less than three miles away from the spot in Golden Gate Park that the crystal had pointed to. Charles fell into an easy jog.

He reached a clearing. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting shadows onto the ground. Charles stopped in the middle of the meadow and waited. He could feel the collective power that surrounded him. It was different from the power he felt from other witches. Stronger, more potent.

The shadows suddenly began to move, separating themselves from the trees. Remaining still, he watched them approach. Three of them, more shadow than form, more ghost than living being. The witches of the mark. Their aura identified them as different from other witches. It drew him to them like moth to a flame, a sign of their banked power surpassing his. The air crackled with electricity. Tension rose like mist.

“You found us,” an ethereal sounding voice said, “yet, you are not one of our kind.”

“I need your help.”

One of the shadows moved closer. “It is not you who needs our help,” a second voice claimed. “We can sense one of our own near.”

“My niece, Ilaria. She’s one of you.”

“How old is the child?”

“She’s no child anymore. She’s twenty-three.”

“And she’s still alive?” One figure came closer and finally he could see her. A woman of indistinguishable age, neither beautiful nor ugly. She gave him a once over. “And you have protected her for all this time?” She mumbled something to herself. “Despite the danger to yourself? Why?”

“She’s my flesh and blood.”

“Even fathers and mothers have killed their children once they recognized the mark, knowing what the future holds. Knowing the dangers.”

“I made a promise.”

“How much longer does she have?”

“Not long. With every day, the evil comes closer.”

“Did you bring what we need?”

He reached into his pocket and produced a photograph. He’d taken it only days ago. A picture of Ilaria’s mark.

It was pulled from his fingers and lifted into the air, only to land in the witch’s hand a moment later. The witch studied it, before lifting her head, surprise flickering brightly in her eyes.

“I’m surprised she hasn’t killed you yet.”

He knew that. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge that bullet for much longer. “Will you save her?”

“Does she want to be saved?”

7

Roxanne retrieved a gun from a hidden panel in the living room of the safe house. She didn’t often use a gun, but on certain assignments she liked to be armed to the teeth.

“Perimeter check?” Zane asked.

She nodded. “See you in five.”

“Want me to come with you?” Grayson called to her, popping his head through the open doorway leading to the kitchen.

“I can handle a fucking perimeter check,” she growled and marched to the door.