When had the FBI been called in? As soon as the ship left Hawaii was my guess. So, a month ago or thereabouts, Brant would have been assigned the case. When had Raphael stepped in and murdered his partner? Sometime between the FBI getting involved and the ship making our border down here, Raphael Nonpareil killed an FBI agent and took his place.

  No matter when he did it, that was a long time to plan something. What had I been doing a month ago? Nothing stood out to me. There was nothing that I could think of that would have made me come to Raphael's attention within the timeframe available.

  And that left me feeling very worried.

  Maybe it was a chance thing. Maybe the case caught his attention and it just happened to bring him to me. I had no idea what motivated a vampire. It could have been ennui for all I knew. But if I couldn't get a straight answer from him regarding why he was here and why he was interested in me, maybe concentrating on the case — solving it — would get Raphael Nonpareil out of my life and away from my team.

  It was worth a shot. I'd solve the case — save the kids — and then send him packing.

  There were a few more names on the list Tac had compiled, but it was getting late now; past midnight. Some of the venues might still be open, but it was only Thursday. The city didn't really embrace the night until at least Friday evening. We'd have better luck tomorrow after a good night's rest.

  I turned the car into the driveway at Goldie's Brae and slowly made my way to the glasshouse.

  "Is there somewhere I can drop you off for the night?" I asked Rafe. I wasn't asking to be nice. I wanted him out of my car and anywhere but near me.

  "We're booked into the Wadestown Arms."

  There were several places to stay near Goldie's Brae, but none of them were up to FBI standards. I didn't think the Wadestown Arms would be anything special, but at least it was close.

  "Grab your bag and I'll drop you off," I said as I brought the Citroen to a stop.

  Harry's Range Rover was still missing. I doubted he'd be back tonight. The others were on the job, but Tac's ten-speed bike was leaning up against the curved glass of the house.

  I unlocked the front door and kicked the bottom to dislodge it from the baseboard. It creaked when it opened. Light spilt out of Tac's and my office, so it stood to reason he was still in there. It just so happened that that's where the Feds' had left their weekenders.

  There was no sneaking up on Tac. Tac was omnipotent. He saw everything, everywhere, and that included the couple of acres Banana House stood on. He knew we were here before we even arrived.

  I walked into our office with a sense of impending dread. I was bringing an enemy into our haven. The Victorian wasn't much to look at. The curved glass front was all that made it stand out. Inside, it was rundown, worn out, and slightly vulgar. But it was ours. It was our base.

  And now I brought a vampire into our house.

  I looked over my shoulder at Raphael. His pale skin seemed luminescent in the dim light of the hallway. His white hair shone like a halo, but this was very much not an angel who stalked into the room behind me. More like a demon, I thought, even if I wasn't entirely sure what it was he could do yet.

  I should have bargained better for my team's protection, I realised. My company for their safety had only been implied. I should have set down some rules. Don't feed off my teammates. Don't use your…magia on them. I hadn't been thinking clearly. I was tired, hungry, and had lost what felt like a lot of blood. I wasn't working at my best.

  But something told me I needed my best to win this fight.

  I turned away from that chiselled face and otherworldly complexion and looked at Tac.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Hey," he mumbled and kept doing whatever it was he was doing.

  "Why are you still here?" I asked him. It was late. Tac didn't usually stay this late.

  "Waiting on you guys."

  That hadn't been necessary, but it was nice to know he'd been watching over us.

  "Well, we're calling it a night," I said. "Harlee and Brant should be finishing up at The May Tree about now. We'll grab Brant's bag and meet him at the hotel."

  "That's me done then." He powered down his computer while I checked my messages and did the same to mine. I was finished before he was.

  When Tac turned to stand up, his eyes caught on Raphael. There was a look shared between them; one I didn't understand. Part threat, part agreement. It sent a shiver down my back. The moment passed and then Tac was out the door, telling me to stay alive and not even speaking to our guest.

  It was strange, but a lot of things had been strange lately. I shook the feeling off. The sooner I dropped Raphael and the bags off at the hotel, the sooner I could get away from him.

  He'd already grabbed both bags and was waiting for me by the front door. I hated taking a break from the case, but we needed sleep, and the kids had lasted a month, so they'd likely last another eight hours.

  Unless the White Rose had told Harlee and Brant something useful, we had nothing solid to go on. Delaying to get some sleep seemed obvious. But the longer it took to catch a break on this one, the more unsettled about the entire thing I was becoming.

  I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was due to Raphael's big reveal, what I'd seen and experienced this evening, or simply that this case felt all kinds of wrong. Back to front, too long a timeline when we more often worked in hours and not weeks, and dead-ended every which way I turned.

  Something had to give.

  Raphael squeezed himself into the car again and I didn't even get any satisfaction out of watching him. I was dead on my feet. The confusion that was my life wasn't helping either.

  "So," I said as I navigated the night-shrouded streets, "we're just gonna pretend everything is normal?"

  "As far as your teammates are concerned, it is."

  "And Brant? If I saw through your magia, then what if he does?"

  "He won't."

  "Why not?"

  "I can't say."

  "I'm getting tired of that."

  "You need to sleep."

  I snorted as I approached his hotel. It was decked out in an old English pub kind of way. Not at all in keeping with the neighbourhood, but it kinda complemented Goldie's Brae.

  A light was flickering in the carpark. An owl hooted when I opened my car door and climbed out. The moon chose that moment to peek out from behind a cloud. It was full and bright, casting strange shadows across the parking lot. A shudder moved through me and it took all of my willpower to walk the vampire to the front door.

  I watched him from the corner of my eye. He walked like a panther on the prowl. Sleek movements, sure-footed, his eyes alert and scanning the environment.

  "Something up?" I asked.

  "I can take it from here, Catalin. You should go home for the night."

  "What about Brant?"

  "He's waiting inside."

  I had no grounds to disbelieve him, but for some reason, I thought he was lying.

  "Sleep well then," I said and returned to my car. He watched me start it up and then as I drove out of the parking lot, he turned and entered the hotel.

  "This is a bad idea," I muttered to myself, pulling the car over to the side of the road, a hundred metres down the street where it curved out of sight.

  I killed the engine, checked my gun was fully loaded, and then slid out into the night.

  Harlee hadn't texted me with an update. I hadn't seen her car at the hotel. Either she was still on the way here, or something had gone wrong and she couldn't get in touch. She was young, but she'd been working with me for quite some time now. I'd trained her well.

  She should have been in touch if she'd dropped Brant off at the hotel.

  I made my way back toward the Wadestown Arms, using the shadows to hide me from any prying eyes. The city thrummed around me, my fingers tingled slightly. I worked on keeping my breathing steady, but that didn't help.

  It isn't hyperventilation, Cat, I scolded myself. It's magia.

  Raphael may not be able to say much, but I would horde what he did let slip and work this all out.

  First, though, I wanted to know what had set the vampire off.

  His jaw had been ticking, his eyes had been bright. I might not know much about this new world he'd opened up to me, but I did read people well.

  He'd been pissed off. God help me, but I needed to know why.

  Rafe

  Iwatched from inside the hotel foyer as Catalin drove away. I hadn't fooled her. But it was enough just to get her to leave. Hopefully, she'd stay away.

  I turned from the desolate parking lot and made my through the quiet building and out into a small walled garden in the back. If there had been a human manning the reception desk, they had disappeared. Possibly, they'd taken a break. More likely, my visitor had made them leave.

  If things went the way I feared they'd go, Special Agent Adams and I may not even be staying the night. I didn't allow myself to continue that thought, though. When dealing with a gudari, one must never show fear.

  My wrists ached, but I refused to scratch at them. The magic of the lotu had been activated. Not because I walked in the sun, but because the All-Mother wished to control me. She had sent someone to check up on my progress. I hadn't fooled her, at all, it seemed.

  I had to try harder.

  The moon appeared from behind a dark cloud overhead, bathing the somewhat neglected garden in milky white light. My visitor stretched his thick neck, rolling his head around on his shoulders. The crack of his vertebrae sounded loud in the surrounding silence.

  I took in his short but muscular appearance and the simple human-styled jeans and t-shirt he wore. The celestial tattoos on his bulging forearms writhed as the magia in them enabled him to ignore The Call. His eyes glowed briefly gold and then settled into a more subdued amber. His teeth clenched, the veins on his neck stood out as he struggled with the moon's pull, and then magia washed the garden and he sucked in a deep breath.

  His nose twitched, then, as he smelled Catalin on me. I'd made sure not to spill a drop of her blood, so it was only her body odour that caught his attention. But it was enough.

  He let out a huff of breath, rather like an unamused dog.

  "Mutil gaiztoa izan zara, banpiro," he growled.

  I replied in English and not the language of our people. He did not deserve the respect The Involition tongue would give him. Besides, I knew now we had an audience. Thankfully, she was downwind of the werewolf. I was only aware she was there because I'd tasted her blood.

  Catalin should hear what this dog had to say to me. Then perhaps she'd understand she had no choice but to trust me. I smiled at the thought. I liked the sound of Catalin Aguirre trusting me. It would prove her downfall, but oh the joy of controlling one of her kind.

  It was intoxicating.

  "I am merely doing as the All-Mother bids," I said, my voice cold and emotionless.

  "The All-Mother expected report by now, Raphael," the wolf scolded. I was pleased to see he spoke in English. A broken English with a healthy dose of a Russian accent, but English all the same.

  We might speak the Mother Tongue, but we were not all born to the Mother until she saved us.

  The lotu flared. Unable to hear my thoughts, the magic responded to my pheromones instead. It wouldn't take long for the werewolf before me to scent my disrespect. Not all gudari are werewolves, of course, but those who are often prove to be the hardest to deal with.

  I had to tread carefully here.

  "I have been here less than a day," I told him. "This is a delicate case."

  "No such thing as delicate case," the gudari snarled. "Is she or is she not sorgina?"

  "I have not completed my assessment."

  "Simple question. Why you stall?"

  "I am not stalling." This was as I feared. I wasn't getting out of this visit without committing to a path I was not yet ready to walk.

  But I was also not yet ready to pick a path at all.

  My training and conditioning pushed me toward honesty. But the All-Mother had made a mistake sending a werewolf to chain me. Had she sent one of her own, I would not be able to rebel even a little.

  And yet, should I rebel? This was just one woman. One witchling who didn't even know what she was.

  Who had not been trained — conditioned — by them.

  Who had also not been conscripted by The Involition and subject to its curses.

  Catalin was as free as a witch could get. None existed outside of The Involition's influence and yet here she was, in a small island nation, devoid of knowledge, inexperienced in her craft, and not yet corrupted by power or curse.

  What could be achieved with this single woman under my command? So much. So much could be achieved. It was tantalising.

  The lotu flared. It was hard for the werewolf to miss the surge in magia. I'd pushed my luck too far. What was wrong with me? This was not how I had survived centuries in a viper's nest.

  "What are you doing, jagole?" the wolf snarled.

  Pick a path, Rafe. Now or never.

  "I am doing nothing, gudari. What are you doing here so soon into an investigation? I was sent here to watch and assess. Less than twenty-four hours have passed. Is the All-Mother so scared of one little human girl that she jumps the gun and sends in a warrior? What is she afraid of? Is Catalin actually a danger to her?"

  The wolf strained at his binds, the tattoos along his arms glowing with an unnatural blue light. His face elongated. His teeth stretched. Fur sprouted over his knuckles and then spread up his arms, intertwining with the roiling marks on his dark skin.

  Too easy. Their devotion to the All-Mother would be the werewolves' downfall.

  "Temper, temper," I remarked. "The curse has you in its claws now, otso."

  He tipped his head back and let out a wretched snarl that morphed into a howl midway through.

  "When was the last time you changed?" I asked, conversationally. "If it has been a while, the change is said to be quite painful. Debilitatingly so. It would be such a shame to give in to the urge and then have a vampire standing over your unresponsive body. I've heard otso blood is quite delicious."

  The wolf let out a roar that shook the windows in the hotel behind me. I could hear Catalin's heartbeat increase. Fear coated the corner of the garden where she remained hidden from the beast.

  Once changed, he would scent her regardless of where she hid or which way the wind blew. But the curse should never be underestimated. It was designed to aid us and control us, rarely did anyone think to use it against us.

  But I was not just anyone. I was the oldest of my kind. The unofficial leader of all vampires. King of a dead realm. Master of nobody.

  For we all answered to someone else.

  And so did this wolf.

  The curse flared, and a shockingly sharp stab of magic surged through the air. I heard Catalin gasp. Thankfully, the wolf was too busy being subjugated by the curse to notice. Muscles bulged, bones snapped, and skin shifted as nature fought the curse's conditioning.

  The curse won. It always did. Like everything in our world, the freedom to be who we are is strictly controlled. And to step outside those binds was to invite the All-Mother's wrath.

  The gudari crouched on the ground, panting for breath, as the waves of pain slowly dissipated. He looked human again. Albeit a human who had fought a long battle and not come out on top. There were no obvious wounds to see, but injury can be sustained in so many different ways.

  He was injured and he knew I knew it.

  I studied him, while he warily looked back at me. We could fight. The consequences would be painful, and the outcome would not be guaranteed. But we could fight, right here and right now, and pretend we were free.

  I broke eye contact and looked up at the moon. The werewolf let out a huff of breath that I was not meant to hear but did. He was relieved. He did not think he could beat me. Interesting.

  "You risk much, Raphael," he murmured. "She grows weary of your resistance."

  "I thought I made her exceedingly boring life more interesting."

  "Do not confuse tolerance with amusement. She knows the curse chafes you. More so than others."

  "Does it chafe you, Ilya?"

  "You know answer to that." Yes, I did. The wolves would have killed themselves by now without the All-Mother's intervention. Too painful the change; it corrupted them. There was only so much agony you could take, month after month. Sooner or later, the torment twisted the mind.

  The curse the All-Mother created saved them and in return, she had their loyalty for life.

  Ilya was not a bad man, but as a wolf, he could never be trusted.

  I scowled at the thought. It was a dangerous mental path to take. He was right. It did chafe. I had just not allowed myself to acknowledge it. The brief moment of hope resistance would bring would end in tragedy. There was no other outcome.

  I sucked in a breath of air and said, "She shows signs of magia. Barely. I cannot tell yet whether she simply has an affinity to magic, or she can wield it. My recommendation at this early stage would be further study. She has a life here. Friends who would move heaven and earth to find her if we took her from her world. They could cause problems for us."

  "Then the All-Mother will order their deaths."

  I shook my head. "These are not human civilians. They work for the government. But worse than that, they work for an international law enforcement unit. We might be able to contain the disappearance of half a dozen government employees in a small country distant from every other. But half a dozen field agents belonging to Interpol? Not a chance. There would be consequences I am sure the All-Mother would wish to avoid."

  "You know nothing of what she thinks."

  "I know how The Involition thinks, Ilya. How old do take me for?"

  "Too old, Raphael. You think the girl is threat? Look closer."

  How much truth did he speak? How much of a thorn in the All-Mother's side had I become? Simply by continuing to live.