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Donja spied a black Mercedes in the parking lot and instantly thought of Torin. She scanned the exterior and noticing a dent on the driver side, realized it wasn’t Torin’s.
Inside the glass door where the smell of books wafted, they found a table and had no sooner sat down than two men approached them.
“Are you Makayla?” one of the men asked.
“Yes, and you must be Jonas?”
“I am indeed,” he said, as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He was lean, about forty with dark skin and ebony eyes that matched his closely buzzed hair. “This is my associate, Rubio,” he said as the other man, who was nigh on seven feet tall with a bald, shiny head, a gold tooth, and tattoos on his muscled arms, sat down.
Donja felt an instant nervousness and for no credible reason, for they were surely safe in a public forum, scooted closer to Makayla. Jonas seized the album as Donja and Makayla shared a look and began to flip through the pages, sharing a glance with Rubio. He slammed it tight and slid it back to Makayla. “The drawings,” he asked, “did you bring them?”
“Yes,” Makayla said, pulling them from a plastic bag.
Jonas and Rubio studied the pictures, with suspicious glances back and forth and then, Jonas pushed them across the table to Makayla. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” he said with a smile that revealed tobacco-stained teeth, “but these are not the pictures we’ve been searching for.” He stood up, Rubio at his side. “What happened to your neck?” he grinned, his eyes locked on Donja.
Donja felt herself shrinking and pulled her locks tight around her neck.
“Something bite you?” he asked stretching his thick neck unnaturally.
“No, I…well,” she stumbled over her words, “have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good answer,” he said as he spun to walk way, Rubio at his side. When the library door closed behind them, Donja exhaled forcefully.
“What the hell just happened?” Makayla whispered.
“I don’t know, but let’s get out of here.”
Outside the library, the first thing Donja noticed was Jonas and Rubio standing beside the black Mercedes. She tried to ignore them, but she could all but feel their eyes upon her. A furtive glance while clinging to the wedding album forced a shudder. “They’re staring,” she whispered.
“Just ignore them,” Makayla mumbled with a stolen glance as they hurried across the lot. Inside the Lexus, Donja breathed relief. Makayla cranked up and locked the doors. She backed up and waited as a group of kids crossed the parking lot. She glanced at the side mirror. “They’re getting in the car.”
“Just go,” Donja said sinking down in the seat.
Makayla exited the parking lot and had not driven more than a mile when her phone beeped. “Get that,” she said, her nervous eyes locked on the rearview mirror. “Oh crap!”
“What?” Donja blurted.
“They’re following us.”
Donja, who was fumbling in Makayla’s purse for the phone, whirled in the seat and glanced behind. And there it was, the black Mercedes trailing them.
“This is not good,” Donja said, just as the phone beeped again. She jerked Makayla’s wallet out, digging until she found the phone. She answered it and put it on speaker.
“Makayla,” a deep male voice sounded, “are you there?”
“Gage,” she breathed. “Two men are following us.”
“Mortals?”
“It’s hard to tell.”
“Describe them.”
“A tall, muscular black man named Jonas and the other one looks rough. He could be an Affiliate.”
“What’s his name?”
“Rubio.”
