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fooled? She didn't want to think so. But it certainly seemed that Raphael's enemy was hiding
in plain sight, leaving the well-maintained and obviously, if inefficiently, guarded house as
nothing more than a fake while he and his vampires rested in the relative obscurity of this
broken-down neighbor. But if that was so, she'd expect at least some guard presence. He
might be confident in his ruse, but surely not that confident.
She scanned the new property with her binoculars and her certainty grew. Heavy, metal
storm-style shutters covered every window. She lifted her gaze to the rooftop and almost
missed the giveaway, it was so subtle. Nothing more than a shadow on the pale brick of the
chimney. Her gaze traveled back to its source and she saw a black-clad leg shift into cover
behind the arched parapet of the faux mission exterior. A careful search found no other signs,
but that didn't mean they weren't there, only that the guards here were professional enough
not to be seen ... unlike the Judge Judy fan at the other house.
Cyn continued to peer through the binoculars until her eyes watered with strain, but she
could find no other indication of either vampires or their guards. Rubbing her eyes, she
glanced idly at the rest of the compound and caught a flash of faded white far behind the
house. An outbuilding of some sort? A garage?
She'd been hiding in the scrub of the hillside for nearly two hours, remaining virtually still,
concealed within a thick cluster of oleander bushes. She was bored, restless, and beginning
to wonder why she cared enough to spend her day lying on the wet ground while small ro-
dents scurried about their business far too close for her comfort. Making a decision, she
tucked the binocs carefully into her backpack and slithered up and over the hill until she was
out of sight from below. Then she stood and began walking. Maybe a little direct reconnais-
sance was in order.
* * * *
The guard at the beige house paid little attention as she jogged past, other than a leering
scrutiny that filled her with disgust at the man's complete absence of simple intelligence,
much less professionalism. Sure, she had quite intentionally stripped down to nothing but a
stretchy, sleeveless undershirt, had even switched her utilitarian sports bra for a lacy number
left over from her quick change at Benita's. But she was also wearing a baseball cap pulled
low over her face and black, form-fitting trousers tucked into SWAT-style heavy boots which
were hardly running shoes. And still the guy hadn't noticed anything except her bouncing
boobs. She kept running until she was deep into the cul-de-sac, at the very far edge of the
second property. A glance over her shoulder assured her the incompetent guard couldn't see
her even if he thought to look, but cognizant of the watchers on the roof, she stopped on the
street and moved from foot to foot, shaking her legs out, as if resting before resuming her jog
back down the hill.
She stared at the house, wanting desperately to follow that wall just a little ways through
the trees. Maybe there was a back gate, something less guarded, someplace big enough for
a small human to pass through, but too small to warrant a full-time guard. She toyed with the
idea for all of ten seconds. Too risky. The guards on the roof had certainly seen her enter the
cul-de-sac, might even be watching her right now. If she disappeared, they'd come looking.
And if there was one thing Cyn knew for sure, it was that she didn't want to party with
Pushkin's vampires ever again.
She sighed in resignation and started back, resuming her jogging persona until she was
down the road and out of sight. She'd have to do this the hard way, which meant circling
around through the brush. More rodents, and probably snakes too. That damn Raphael had
better be worth all of this.
* * * *
On her hillside perch once again, she studied the area for several minutes, then scooted
out of sight and started walking. It was a long, filthy hike and, despite the cool temperature,
she was sweating profusely beneath the heavy material of her jacket. But that was better that
having the skin scratched off her arms as she forced her way through tangles of brush and
grass that probably hadn't been cleared since the last fire rolled through this area several
years ago. She swore in disgust. Cyn was a city girl through and through. If she needed a jog,
she did it on the sands of Malibu in front of her condo. If she wanted to hike, she drove to
Beverly Center and hiked through the mall. She really didn't enjoy the great outdoors all that
much, and this was definitely not her idea of a good time. But she wasn't some sort of foolish
liability who needed to be left standing at the gate while the big boys raced off to save the
day, either. So she kept walking.
It took the better part of two hours, and she had long since drained the last of her small
water bottle, but eventually she made her way to the slope directly behind the overgrown
white adobe. There was nothing here but scrublands, probably some sort of federal parkland
or conservation area. Cyn dropped to her belly and pulled out her binoculars once again. It
was a short drop to the estate on this side of the hill, with plenty of cover all the way down,
wild oak mostly with branching trunks and full canopies, crowded by more of the tangled
brush she'd fought through all the way here. The steep slant of the property would make it dif-
ficult for the watchers on the roof to see her, but a good security team would have people on
the ground to make up for that. On the other hand, she hadn't seen a single guard outside the
perimeter of the wall yet, not from her earlier observations and not now. Which only meant
they were inside on the estate grounds instead.
She frowned and thought long and hard about what she was going to do. It was still day-
light, so the guards would be human. She could handle human. They made noise and could
be tracked like anyone else, and more importantly, they didn't have superhuman speed or
fangs and claws. She lifted the binoculars once again. There was no break in the stone, not
even a back gate of any kind, but the building she'd glimpsed from the hillside edged right up
to the wall here. It would cover her if she wanted to climb over.
It was the memory of Raphael's voice telling her to be at the gate at eight sharp that got
her moving. The vampire thought he could leave her behind, did he? She slithered down the
hill, staying close to the ground and moving slowly, mindful of every sound. They'd cleared fif-
teen feet or so around the estate itself. It wasn't enough for an effective fire break, but it
meant she'd have to cross a wide open space to reach the wall. She crouched beneath her
last bit of cover and waited. After several minutes, during which she neither heard nor saw
any indication of movement inside, she pulled flexible pads out of her thigh pockets and
strapped them onto her knees. Then she stood and ran for the wall, flexing her knees and
jumping at the last moment. Her hands caught the top edge and she pulled, using her feet
and knees to gain traction on the rough surface, hitching herself higher until she could throw
her upper body over the top. It was like climbing the rock wall at her gym. Or close enough.
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