Excerpt of Blood on the Water by David Burton

CHAPTER ONE

BOSTON

The three women cruised into Boston around eight at night under a clear, moonless sky. Justine drove, Simone navigated.

Teresa stretched in the back seat. "Are we there yet, amigas?"

"Boston, dead ahead," Justine said.

"No more dead because we're here, I hope"

"Moi aussi," Simone agreed, while perusing a city map.

"I thought you knew where we're going?"

"It has been forty years since I was last here," Simone said. "And I did not have much time to study the city then."

"Is there a crumbly arrest warrant waiting at the bottom of a drawer for you?" Teresa asked.

Simone turned a wounded expression to the back seat.

"Teresa, my mortal friend, you know I am as you say, one of the 'Good guys."

Teresa flashed her a scrunched up smile and patted into place her dark hair pulled back into a short chignon. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I know you are."

Simone took Teresa's hand and held it against her thin lips.

Just for an instant, Teresa attempted to jerk her hand away from the vampire's gentle vise-like grip. "Sorry."

"I understand you still do not trust me," Simone said. "But I swear to you, Teresa, that I will never take your blood without your permission. Ca va?"

"I know that, too."

Simone kissed her mortal friend's hand and turned back to her map. "Exit here. Head for Cambridge."

Justine finally found a parking space a block down from MIT Square. Only half joking Justine complained, "Couldn't we have pushed some of these cars together and made a space?"

"This is MIT. We'd return and find the vehicle in pieces," Simone said.

The three women exited and stretched in the glow of a streetlight.

Teresa twisted her solid mortal body. "Couldn't you have turned into bats and fly here while I flew first class?"

A rare chuckle came from Justine "I wish." She rubbed Teresa's shoulders.

"Oh, that feels so good. I take back everything bad I ever said about your change."

"I hope you never have to take back your take back." Justine kissed her friend on the cheek and turned to Simone. Expression gone serious, she said, "Lead on."

Trees lined the street, ivy covered much of the two and three story brick student apartment buildings. Justine and Simone wore long coats, loose trousers, and boots. With dark caps pulled low, one didn't need to know what they were to know they were dangerous. Teresa, the taller of the three, carried a few extra pounds. In sneakers and jeans, hands jammed into the pocket of a worn Cargill coat, she might be described as intimidating, but nothing more.

More than one person negotiating the nighttime streets glanced over their shoulders as the three strode down the sidewalk.

All four corners of the intersection consisted of small store fronts, Laundromat, 7-11, used record and CDs, printing, hole-in-the-wall restaurants. Around the corner, across the street, Kazza's Psychic Store.

Crossing the street, Simone whispered to the others, "Kazza is a friend. Her brother, Treen, and I did not part on good terms." She caught Justine's eye. "He has a temper." Justine nodded, and made sure the short sword hidden by her coat was loose in its scabbard. To Teresa, "It might be dang--."

"It's my daughter we're looking for. I'm going in." She squared her shoulders. "I won't stake anybody without your permission.""

Simone shook her head, reached for the door. "Stay alert."

Inside, they surveyed the narrow store. Glass cases filled with crystal balls, crystals, tarot cards, ornate herb boxes and other psychic paraphernalia lined the right side. On the left, tables carried candles, incense and aromatic oils. Books lined the walls. New Age up front, running back to subjects closer to witchcraft, sorcery, vampires and other unsavory creatures. A counter with a well-worn wooden gate ran across the back.

Spreading out, they approached the counter and waited.

Teresa looked around, searching. "I feel something. Like electricity in the air."

"Magic," Simone said. "No shoplifters here."

"Oh Dios. Brujeria? For real?"

Simone shrugged – yes.

"Simone! You have returned." A chunky woman around 40 trailing a voluminous tie-dyed gown with sewed on mystical signs burst through a door in the back. With a nod of her head the gate swung open as she came through arms held wide for Simone. They embraced, kissing both cheeks. "Now you must go away."

"Treen? I told no one I was coming.""

"Of course Treen. He felt you the minute you stepped out of your car. He will come for you.”

Justine’s hand went to the hilt of her sword. The woman arched an eyebrow.

Simone grinned. “Not yet, Justine. Only if he kills me.” Justine removed her hand, but didn’t relax. “Kazza, this is Justine Kroft.”

Kazza held Justine's hand with both of hers while studying her up and down. Justine tried to avoid the woman’s gaze, but couldn’t turn away.

“You must be a special woman, Justine. Simone makes few Young Bloods." Over her shoulder she asked Simone, "I heard that the Master of the Sinakovs was destroyed. You?”

“Justine.”

“See, special already.”

Kazza turned to Teresa. “A mortal?”

“This is Teresa Diaz. Her daughter Antonia was taken by the Sinakov Family. We are in search of her.”

Gripping both of Teresa's hands, Kazza stared deep into her dark eyes. Into her soul, Teresa thought, squirming under the scrutiny, feeling warm tendrils rummage about her brain and body. With a gasp Kazza stepped back, though she kept hold of Teresa’s hand. "Simone, did you know?”

“I thought, maybe.”

"Yes, how could you not? Does she suspect?"

"No."

Teresa looked from one to the other. "Suspect what?"

"You are hurting inside. Not only for your daughter. You have given up much to search for her."

"That doesn't matter." Teresa leaned forward, grasping Kazza's hands. "Do you know something? Is she alive?"

"Ah, yes, that would be helpful to know, wouldn't it?"