Off and on throughout the flight, I keep checking my phone hoping to see the code has been sent, but my texts are still blank. The only contacts in our phones are those wolf shifters and vampire searching for the lair. By the time we land, I’m ready to get off this damned plane and never look back. We hit turbulence an hour into the flight and though I know it’s harmless and the pilots can handle it, I have a devil of a time convincing myself we aren’t all going to die. Not even Louis threatening to sedate me if I don’t stay in my seat manages to contain my panic. And though he continues valiantly to assure us we are safe throughout the flight, only when we stop taxing and the door opens do I finally believe him. All three of us rush the door and tumble down the stairs to the hard ground. Dragging great gulps of air into my lungs I stumble several steps away. Both of my friend’s faces are tight and Kate’s is tear-streaked, too. Obviously, I was not the only one having a hard time, though for the life of me now I can barely remember anything but mindless fear. Finally, my breath slows and the tightness in my chest relaxes. We didn’t die.

​

Louis glides up to the three us looking worried. “Non, mademoiselle. C’est vrai. You did not die.”

​

I have no idea if I voiced that or he picked it out of my head, but I don’t care. “Right.” This time. I glare at the jet. I don’t know if I can get back on it. Ever.

​

Like she’s reading my mind too, Kate sobs, “I can’t do it. I can’t get on that plane again. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” She drops her head in her hands and Emma and I comfort her, though we don’t try to tell her she’s wrong.

​

I look up to meet his eyes. “Louis, please tell me we don’t—”

​

“Vraiment, I wish I could promise you this were so. But, I can offer you a reprieve. For now at least, we have no need of an airplane.” He points to his left at a black SUV sitting a football field or so away. A man with short black hair neatly trimmed stands beside it, his head held high. He holds his shoulders so far back his body is curved. His feet, clad in trim loafers, are together, his arms hanging stiffly. It’s such a proud and strong stance, it reminds me of something. His outfit does it, though it’s a modified, it’s close enough to the real thing it must be on purpose. Slim stretchy black pants and a bright red and gold striped button up with a straight hem ending above his hips over a matching red t-shirt. This guy was a matador at some point. I’d put money on it.

​

We landed in a field surrounded by scrubby evergreens. The ground is pretty uneven, explaining the teeth-jarring ride as we taxied the short way to this spot. It’s cold here, but the ground is all browned grasses. Gunmetal gray skies promise rain rather than the snowstorms we’ve gotten used to seeing. Nor is it anywhere near the freezing mark. All of a sudden my coat is way too warm.

​

Yanking down the zipper, I ask, “Where are we?”

​

“North Carolina. More specifically, in the landing field of a good friend. She was at the summit and is one of the missing. Her remaining people wanted to help anyway they could.” Louis gestures to the waiting vehicle. “Come, s’il vous plaît. We must hasten if we’re to reach our final destination before they close.”

​

Sighing, I trudge after him, my friends on either side of me.

​

As we approach the SUV, the stranger locks an intense gaze to my right, unerringly onto Emma. I look at her face, expecting to see recognition, but she’s focused on where she places her feet; she isn’t even looking at him. When we’re withing speaking distance, in a thick accent he proclaims, “Señorita Libby!”

​

Emma looks from him to me and back again. I decide to clear things up. “Ah, sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m Libby.”

​

To his credit, he looks chagrined. However, he recovers quickly, turning that sharp gaze on me instead. He holds one arm straight out, the other across his body, and bows deeply to me. “Mi Señora, I am at your service.”

​

Is this guy for real?

​

He blinks at me as he slowly straightens. Eyes wide he says. “I had heard of this ability to broadcast, but I had no idea she sent thoughts so loudly! It is truly remarkable!”

​

It takes supreme effort not to roll my eyes. I’d gotten pretty good at hiding my thoughts but when I’m tired or stressed out, like I have been for the past...how many days has it been? Eesh. Anyway I really should work on that. Just as soon as we defeat the evil Roman and save our loved ones. Yeah.

​

Louis’ eyes crinkle with humor but he simply answers, “Indeed.” I’m not sure if he’s answering me, or Sir Matador over here.

​

Undeterred, the man trains his laser focus back on me. I stop myself from taking a step backward. “I am Fabricio. But as you so astutely surmised, among my people I am called The Matador. Before you came I feared for my mistress. But now you are here! You who defeated François! You who found the fae’s compound, and rescued the Ancient One’s daughter!” Now his eyes dart to Emma and she nods in confirmation, a small smile playing on her lips. Next he turns that attention on Kate. She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin in response to his frank perusal. Something like relief flashes across his face when he turns back to me, impassioned by what he apparently sees. “With such friends at your side, you cannot fail. Whatever you require, whatever is in my power to do, you have only to ask.” With a final flourishing bow, he hurries around opening doors on his way to jumping into the drivers seat and starting up the SUV.

​

I stare after him, dumbfounded. Chuckling quietly, Louis closes the front passenger door behind him. Emma shakes her head at me and grabs my hand. “Come on Broadcaster.” She pulls me behind her to the car and Kate follows us. We quickly sort ourselves. I climb all the way to the rear, while Kate and Emma settle into the middle bucket seats.

​

My mind on Jo and all that we still have to do to find her, much less save her in time, I stare out the tinted window. I watch miles of flat fields go by relieved only by lines of trees and the occasional squat home. We drive through a few small towns, and cross a few streams and other shallow bodies of water. Finally we cross a proper bridge quickly followed by a much longer one that takes us onto Roanoke Island. The second pizza place we pass within a mile makes my stomach growl. How long has it been since I had more than one good meal in a row?

​

Kate turns in her seat, interrupting my maudlin musing with a laugh. “Yeah, I’m hungry, too.”

​

Louis looks around at us from his seat. His smiles seems genuine, but I’ve known him long enough to recognize the worry tightening the skin around his eyes. Still, he manages to keep his voice light. “Our business here will be quick. As soon as we finish, we will find you ladies some dinner, d’accord?”

​

“Now that sounds like a deal.” Emma laughs at me when my stomach rumbles again. “If this one doesn’t faint first.”

​

My cheeks feel warm. “Now look. As I recall, none of us had much interest in lunch, so don’t say it like I’m the only one who needs to eat.”

​

Kate rubs her stomach, making me feel marginally better. “There was no way I could even think of eating on that plane. But now is an entirely different story. I’m starving.”

​

The SUV pulls into a parking lot and Louis turns around again. Now the worry is much more pronounced on his face. I’d be surprised if Kate and Emma pick up on it. He’s not even trying to hide it. “Please follow me.”

​

The damp wind brings a wash of salty air, rot, and astringent pine. I gather my coat a little closer around me and take in the sights as we walk. A green sign nestled in some bushes identifies this as Fort Raleigh National Historical Site. There’s an old marker that looks like a tomb stone. I’d love to check that out as well as those big curved mounds of dirt, but Louis leads us directly to the Visitor Center. I tug my coat down to make certain it covers the sheath. I don’t want anyone kicking us out because I’m armed.

​

Louis turns to us. “There is one item in particular I’d like you to see. Accompany me, if you will.” Now that smile is a little too much like a grimace. Whatever he’s about to show us is super important. I glance at Emma and she nods at me. Kate, on the other side of her, slants a glance at Louis’ back and nods too. Okay, good. They see it, too.

​

We follow him inside, past the usual assortment of themed knick knacks and printed or embroidered clothing for sale. We enter a museum, past glass cases holding various bronze items, shards of pottery, and what looks like a hollowed out gourd I wish I could spend more time with. There are even things fashioned of a black metal and some sort of woven cloth in others. I’d enjoy taking a little time to read about all of these things. But Louis passes them by and I remind myself we are here for some reason other than sight seeing. At least we’ll know directly. He halts before a low case and we fall in beside him to gaze at the items inside. A small plaque describes what we’re seeing. Those colorized drawings are reproductions of John White’s watercolors. He was the Governor of the colony who returned in 1590 to find the place void of people; his daughter and granddaughter among the missing. The paintings are of Algonquian people he met at some point in his time here. Underneath all of this, are two depictions of what John wrote he found carved in the survivors’ wake. A post on the defensive palisade surrounding the village held the word CROATOAN, referring to either the native peoples or to what is now known as Hatteras Island, and at least one tree had simply the letters CRO carved into its surface with a small wreath of what look like oak leaves sits above them. Those 3 letters found on the tree are assumed to be part of the same word carved on the stakewall. These were the only clues left at the abandoned fort. I finish reading and shrug at Louis.

​

Louis clasps his hands in front of him. “Does anything strike you about any of this?”

​

“The wreath doesn’t seem to fit,” I venture.

​

Louis nods solemnly. “It is distinctly Roman, this wreath, is it not?

​

Kate chews on her lip. “One hundred and fifteen people arrived here just a few years earlier and every single person just disappears. Apparently leaving no clue as to what actually happened to them other than they may have moved to Hatteras.”

​

There aren’t any other visitors here right now, but after a glance at the museum docent standing near the doorway, Louis lowers his voice. We shift closer to catch his words. “But we do know, n’est pas? The people of this time did not even have a word for what I am. That would not come for centuries. These colonists had no understanding, no defense for what was suddenly in their midst.”

​

Something about Emma’s voice makes me look at her. “Everyone assumes that CRO is just Croatoan shortened, but it isn’t is it?” She directs her question to Louis so I follow her gaze.

​

Louis’s eyes spark and he steeples his fingers under his chin. His voice is decidedly calm. “What else could it be, Emma?”

​

I squint at Louis. “What do you know?”

​

With a sharp shake of his head, he says, “Know? Mademoiselle, I do not know anything. Suspect? Bien sûr, I suspect it is a clue to where we will find the one we seek.”

​

“C.R.O?” Kate mumbles. “C.R.O.”

​

I go for the low hanging fruit. “R for Roman?”

​

Louis blows through his pursed lips. “Oui, we thought of this, too. However, in 1588, if they did know Rome, her accent would not match what they knew to be their contemporary Romans’ accent.”

​

I shrug and Kate pats me on the back. “Don’t worry, I was thinking the same thing. So I guess the C isn’t Croatoan, then? No clues to be found on Hatteras?”

​

Louis shakes his head. “It has been thoroughly searched, on land and with divers. This too was a dead end I am afraid.”

​

Emma has a faraway look in her eyes. “Dead end. No clues.”

​

Alarm shoots through me and I turn it on Louis. “Ah, now would be a really good time to tell us what you dragged us here for.”

​

Louis’ eyes fill with sorrow. “I am sorry if I gave you the impression that I had an answer. I did not intend to tease you. Trying to find The Empress’s lair has become something of a hobby for many of my kind. Most believe it is here in North Carolina, though none can agree on where. From the ocean to the mountains, all have been searched to no avail.”

​

“Well if that’s the case, why the heck did you bring us here, Louis? What could we possibly understand that you don’t?”

​

He lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Mademoiselle, I ask you to have patience and let this unfold as it will.”

​

Kate harrumphs and points at the plaque. “It says the letters were Latin. But the Latin alphabet is ours, right? I mean except for J, U, and W.”

​

Louis nods slowly, as if he’s not sure where I'm going. “Oui, that is correct.”

​

Kate’s small smile stretches across her face and her eyes sparkle with excitement reflected in her voice. “Then maybe that’s a clue in itself. Maybe the words themselves are Latin, rather than English.”

​

Louis’ eyes widen. “I see where you are going with this. It cannot hurt to give it a try, n’est pas?

​

I shake my head. “Okay. I know I didn’t take any Latin classes. Who has?”

​

Emma, apparently back to her usual self, laughs at me and pulls out her phone. “We don’t have to have taken a class when we have the internet. Any word you want to know is right here.” But she shoves her phone back in her pocket before even looking anything up. “The only problem is, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of words that start with these 3 letters. We still don’t have any idea where to start.”

​

I’m distracted by movement and watch her spin that Taran gave her. Round and round and round. I look warily at her eyes and, just as I feared they have that far-off look in them again. Wonder what that’s about?

​

Emma says, “I need to walk around outside. Do we have time?”

​

“Oui, Emma, we have time. Lead the way.” A sparkle of hope lights up the old vampire’s eye. He almost looks, satisfied? He’s been waiting for something like this to happen. What does he know? What is going on here?

​

Emma twists the ring on her finger faster. “I’m...I’m not sure where to go. I just have a, a feeling I have to be out there. I have to see.” Her emphasis tells me she isn’t talking about sightseeing.

​

She turns on her heel and we hurry after her without a word. It started raining heavily while we were inside; it blows in sheets and the dark skies swirl dramatically. I didn’t think we were in there long enough for a major storm to blow up, but I know things change quickly this close to the ocean. There’s an energy in the storm that makes my hair want to stand on end. I yank the hood up over my head and fumble with the zipper to give me some protection from the rain. I have to lean into the wind as I splash my way to where Emma stands. Cadeau thrums under my coat. I’m sure it’s reacting to whatever Emma is doing. I don’t want to expose it to the elements so I tune it out. Those tall wall-like mounds of dirt encircle Emma. She squats and shoves her hand down into the sodden ground. Her hood is thrown back and her hair whips around her head but she doesn’t pay it any attention. Her normally brilliant blue eyes glow nearly opaque blue. What the heck? I stop a few feet away from her, afraid to disturb whatever is going on. Kate stops to my left, her mouth gaping and Louis stops to my right, nodding with what looks like relief. I open my mouth to say something, but Louis puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head, before turning his attention back to Emma.

​

Her lips start forming words but I can’t make them out. Apparently Kate can’t either, because we both take a step closer to Emma at the same time. Louis touches my arm. He shakes his head at me and I refrain from taking another step. I put an arm in front of Kate and she stops, too, looking at me quizzically. I gesture to Louis and shrug. She nods and crosses her arms tightly around herself as she turns her attention back to Emma. I console myself with the fact he can hear Emma, and hunker down in my coat to wait. Cadeau steadily pulses against my hip.

​

Like a switch flicking off, Emma’s eyes go back to normal and she staggers to her feet, sucking in gulps of air. Her sodden hair falls around her shoulders, though the storm hasn’t changed. Was all that wind coming from her, I wonder? She wipes her muddy hand back and forth on her pants before shoving both hands in her coat’s pockets and cowering down in its warmth. “What – Why are we standing out here in the rain?”

​

Louis gestures to us. “Come, let us get out of this weather and find some food. Then, we will talk.”