After a single glance back at the forest from which she had emerged, she turned onto the highway and drove into the city.

She thought, I’m almost forty years old and I’m just being born.

*     *     *

Russell Sherman wasn’t the type to let go easily once he had his mind fixed on something. He had his mind fixed on forging a connection with Josiah, and he held on like an octopus gripping with all tentacles.

In the end, however, he didn’t hold a candle to Josiah’s force of will. After finally extricating himself, Josiah drove swiftly, taking a circuitous route as his mind filled with images from the wrecked dinner party, like lurid snapshots of a crime scene.

The district attorney had a two-bedroom loft apartment in an upscale building near downtown Atlanta, and it was filled with carefully curated items. Josiah also owned an old four-bedroom, two-story house outside the city limits that he had bought under a different identity, and that was where he drove now.

The house was located down a quiet country lane that dead-ended at the property. It had a three-quarter-acre yard that bordered a large farm field and a patch of old-growth woods. The isolation and privacy suited him.

This place, too, had carefully curated furniture—just enough arranged at the front window so that the house looked occupied when the blinds were up. Aside from a few lamps that were scattered throughout the rooms and set to operate on timers, most of the house was empty.

Except for the basement.

Pulling into the driveway, he mentally checked the subtle magical spells that he had woven around the perimeter of the property. Nothing had been disturbed. Still, he didn’t relax until he had let himself inside and walked through the house to inspect it visually. Only then did he descend the old, bare-wood stairs into the basement.

Months of planning and work had gone into this space. When he had bought the house, there had been a utilitarian bathroom and a large game room in the basement. Now there were two finished rooms, with more protection and obscuring spells layered over the floors, walls, and ceiling and anchored into place by runes made of magic-sensitive silver.

The earth itself was another layer of protection and concealment. You could do a lot of magic in a basement before it began to leak out and became potentially noticeable to outside observers.

This was his real base of operations. One room held a bed that was large enough to be comfortable for his tall frame, a closet filled with clothes, a nightstand, and a bedside lamp.