“Aimee,” Cassandra cut in tersely.

“—will open a portal directly to the cemetery,” Cian explained.

“Very World of Warcraft,” Benchley said, grinning.

Alexia knelt next to Aimee helping her sort her magical items. “Shut up, Benchley.”

“Are you sure?” Amaliya asked, worried.

Aimee lifted her head, gave her a lopsided grin. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure. I’m pretty impressive, if I say so myself.”

Cian wrapped his arm around Amaliya’s waist and gazed into her frightened eyes. “It’ll be fine.”

“My grandmother...” Amaliya whispered. “My cousin...Pete...they could die.”

“We’ll get there soon,” Cian promised. “We’ll stop whatever Rachon is planning.”

Cian pulled Amaliya away from where Aimee began to draw a large circle using a bag of white salt. His gaze met Cassandra’s for a moment and the sardonic expression that lingered in her eyes since they met was now gone. He promised himself that once they survived whatever the night would bring he would find the right time to speak with Cassandra. His vampire nature and human nature battled within him, one side demanding her death, another thrilled at the prospect of fatherhood. As if sensing his internal war, Cassandra lightly tapped her stake and smiled at him.

Holding Amaliya close, Cian comforted her as they waited for the witch to weave her magic.

* * *

Samantha and Jeff crouched down, making their way through the overgrown field toward the old farmhouse and the graveyard. They had seen a car park alongside the road and then its headlights had flicked off just as the back doors opened. Jeff had hit the ground, hauling Samantha down with him, and they had waited in silence for the occupants to pass by. Curled up together, they had listened to the grass rustle around them, but never sensed the passing of the newcomers.

After ten minutes, they had risen and started toward the graveyard again. Lights flickered and danced in the old weedy cemetery. There were several people silhouetted against the lantern illumination. Samantha counted five people, but it was difficult to discern who they were.

Samantha eyed Jeff and he motioned for her to remain silent. He scrounged around in his messenger bag and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. Raising them to his face, he studied the scene before them.

Scratching her arm, Samantha cursed not wearing a long sleeved shirt. The wild grass and weeds were making her skin itch. The air smelled oddly stale and the warmth of the night was uncomfortable.

Jeff handed her the binoculars and gestured for her to take a peek. Lifting them, she peered at the people. A tall man in a cowboy hat and duster held Innocente and another man at gunpoint. There was no sign of Sergio. A beautiful woman and an imposing man with a bald head stood over a slim young woman with whitish hair dressed in an old-fashioned ivory dress. Samantha knew instantly who they were. Rachon was here - not in Austin - and Bianca was with her.

Scribbling on a pad of paper, Jeff's mouth was tightened into a harsh line. Samantha poked his side to get his attention and emphatically motioned at the scene. If he couldn't understand her urging him into action, he was an idiot.

Jeff grabbed her wildly-gesturing hands and leaned toward her. His voice was barely audible. “We need to be careful not to lose the element of surprise.” He then pointed to a copse of trees near the cemetery and pantomimed them crawling.

Samantha nodded her head.

Jeff stroked her cheek. She ran her fingers lightly over his features and kissed him. Not needing words, they shared a moment before they both sighed.

Together, they crept slowly forward.

* * *

When Ethan dragged her out of the truck and ripped her purse from her hands, Innocente had promptly kicked him in the shins. He instantly shoved her off her feet and onto the hard soil.

“Hey!” Pete protested from where he sat on the ground nursing a bloody nose. He had tried to disarm Ethan and failed miserably.

“You don't need this anymore. We don't want to insult our guests, do we?” Ethan threw her purse into the brush and, gripping her arm, yanked her to her feet. “Get up, lover boy. Let's not waste her time.”

Innocente tried to wrench free, but she was no match for Ethan. He easily dragged her along behind him as he aimed his gun at Pete's head.

“Get up,” Ethan ordered.

Looking a bit woozy, Pete clambered to his feet. He stood on wobbly legs as he wiped the blood from his face. “So it was all a lie.”

Ethan shrugged. “A bit of a lie, a bit of truth. They are going to turn her human, strip her of her powers, and then kill her. Sorry, Pete, no happy ending for you.”

Innocente observed Bianca staring at her. Tired and angry, Innocente summoned her power. It boiled up inside of her and swirled out into the night, seeking the remnants of the dead. None answered her. She wasn't sure how they could help her, but she was desperate. Her gaze shifted from Bianca to the grave where Sergio now lay. She wasn't certain if he was even alive and her anger and frustration grew.

Beside her, Pete looked crushed and just as furious as she was. They were both in a terrible position and they knew it. There appeared to be little or no hope of escaping whatever the ebony-skinned woman had planned for them. The vampire stood confidently next to Bianca and the tall handsome man loomed over both of them. The female vampire’s large maroon eyes rested on Innocente, a satisfied smile on her face.

Ethan kicked Pete's ass to get him moving forward. Pete cast an angry look over one shoulder, but marched forward. Ethan shoved Innocente before him, gripping her upper arm tightly. The gun Ethan had aimed at her head was enough to keep Pete under control. Innocente knew that Pete wouldn't dare do anything if he thought they would hurt her

“I have to say I'm not disappointed at all in your services, Mr. Logan. All that I heard about you is absolutely true. You certainly do get the job done,” Rachon said, laughter in her voice.

“I aim to please, ma'am, especially when the wire transfer has so many zeros.” Ethan hauled Innocente over the broken wrought-iron fence. Stumbling, she fell to her hands and knees.

“You could be a bit nicer to an old woman,” the big black man protested.

“I thought mortals didn't matter to your kind,” Ethan answered, dragging Innocente to her feet.

“It doesn't hurt to be respectful to the elderly,” the man answered.

“Prosper is a stickler for manners,” Rachon explained.

Beside her, Bianca gaped openly at Innocente.

Innocente returned her gaze. On impulse, she silently reached out to the girl on the wings of her power. Her power allowed her to speak to the dead and technically Bianca was dead. Innocente felt a shiver of a link.

Bianca blinked.

Bianca, help us.

The girl's eyes slightly shifted toward Rachon and Prosper.

You're more powerful than they are. Help us, Bianca, and we'll help you.

Bianca's eyelids slightly lowered, then Innocente thought she may have given the barest of nods.

“So, you have all the ingredients for your ritual now,” Ethan said. He gruffly forced Innocente to sit on a gravestone. He kicked Pete's feet out from under him and the younger man fell with a thud to the ground. “Mother's blood and lover's heart. Just call up the dead and you can claim the bones of Amaliya's creator.”

“You won't get final payment until Amaliya is mortal, understood?” Rachon said firmly.

“By tomorrow night, she'll have a pulse and you can do whatever you want with her,” Ethan said confidently.

“You're evil,” Innocente spat at Ethan.

Ethan shrugged. “I like to consider myself amoral.”

Rachon turned to take Bianca's hand. Tenderly, the woman guided Bianca toward the center of the graveyard. “Time to bring forth the dead, my little one.”

Don't do this, Innocente urged the girl. She felt her power pulsing between them.

Bianca shifted her eyes again toward Innocente, confirming that she could hear her.

Rachon ran her long fingers through the young woman's hair and ducked her head to gaze into her face. “Bianca, raise the graveyard. We need my master's bones. Do you understand?”

Gradually, the girl lifted her eyes to regard Rachon.

“Bianca, raise the graveyard,” Rachon urged again, her voice soft, but firm.

Tilting her head toward Innocente, Bianca's eyes flashed to white.

Don't do this, Bianca. Don't let them kill us.

Help me, Innocente.

Innocente blinked in surprise, then relief filled her. Bianca could hear her and was crying out for help. “Please, don't make her do this!” she cried out, hoping to distract her enemies from the young woman.

“Shut up!” Ethan ordered, shaking her gruffly.

“Hey, I told you to treat her with respect,” Prosper said tersely.

“Bianca, are you listening to me?” Rachon’s voice was taking on a sharp quality.

Innocente, help me! the girl’s voice cried out in the old woman's mind.

Twisting away from Ethan's grasp, Innocente boldly stood and glared at him. “Stop touching me!”