Awakening the Fire - By Ally Shields Page 0,49

the same person or group, like the wolves, is behind it all?”

“Can you prove that?”

He had her there. “I’m just saying it’s possible.”

“Anything is possible.” He stood and considered the sky again. “Dawn is close. Anything else you need to know?”

“One more question. That first night in Goshen Park—why were you there?”

Andreas looked down at her. “I was tracking the wolf. I had come across his trail and…followed a hunch. When I heard the scream, I assumed the wolf had attacked someone. But you were there.” His eyes darkened to unreadable depths. “We would have met sooner or later.”

Well, yeah, Ari thought. That was a no brainer. Riverdale wasn’t a huge community. “What kind of hunch are you talking about?”

“A poor one, apparently. I wanted to see where he went, who he met. But as you know, his only contact was with the children.”

Ari heard the reluctance in his voice. Not the whole story, but all he was willing to give. It was enough for tonight.

They parted at the park entrance. Ari went home to her apartment, and Andreas went wherever vampires go. She wondered if he slept in a coffin. Too creepy. She covered a yawn with her hand. It had been a long night, but she’d made a smart move bringing Andreas into the investigation. She hoped Ryan would see it that way. Wouldn’t he be surprised to learn he had a vampire partner?

Chapter Seventeen

Even though Ari slept late, Friday dragged as she waited for the foray into the vampires’ nest. She paced her apartment and jumped when the phone rang, edgy and eager to step into a world forbidden to outsiders. A copy of Witches World lay discarded on her kitchen table. After reading the same paragraph twice, she’d given up. She’d checked the clock at least a million times, but the hands seemed frozen in place.

Mid-afternoon she gathered the spells and potions for her pouch, selecting items that were most likely to affect vampires. Nothing in her arsenal would be foolproof or fatal, except the dagger and the witch fire, but she had lesser magics that could temporarily bind or slow a vamp. She wasn’t kidding herself that these small protections would be enough against an entire nest though, and she knew she was placing her safety in Andreas’s hands. The busy activity helped with the nervous edge.

She avoided calling Ryan. The vamps wouldn’t allow a full-blooded human near one of their nests. He’d only worry, knowing she was going, and he’d try to stop her. She didn’t want to have that argument. Or tell him about the partnership. Not yet. Not until she proved how useful Andreas would be.

* * *

Ari was early to the rendezvous point. Five o’clock, Goshen Park. She’d asked Andreas how he could meet so early, but he’d brushed it off, saying the ability to resist the sun grew over time. Ari knew it couldn’t be that simple. She was betting others as old were still snoozing.

However he did it, Andreas strode down the path, precisely on time. He looked ready for a special ops mission in black jeans and a black, turtleneck sweater. The fabrics looked expensive, and she figured they were Armani too.

He looked her over and grinned. “My compliments.”

He’d suggested she dress for the occasion, feminine but official. That meant her white Guardian jacket. Not a bad choice since it emphasized her lingering summer tan. She paired it with white skinny jeans, a silk blouse open at the throat, and ankle boots.

They looked like yin and yang, a symbolism she chose to ignore.

Before they left the park, he insisted she remove the silver charm bracelet. “The nest leader won’t allow you to enter with a cross and holy water.” He watched as she slipped it into her pouch.

“Why don’t the charms bother you?” she asked.

“What makes you think they don’t?”

“You haven’t turned away or shaded your eyes.”

“One develops a certain tolerance…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, over time. So don’t tell me. Let’s get on with this.”

Andreas led the way through Olde Town’s winding streets, gradually moving beyond the vampire clubs, beyond the tourist district, and into unfamiliar territory. The slope of the land grew steeper as they descended from the high cliffs to the lower banks on the southeast side, where the Oak River met the Mighty Mississippi. Within twenty minutes, they reached an area of thick brush. As Andreas pulled the branches aside, she saw crude steps fashioned from bolted logs that led over the edge and

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