There it was. When Grace had turned her head, I’d caught a fuller glimpse of the chunky necklace and its network of brown and black stones. The answer had been right in front of me. At the Cellar meeting, I’d noticed a piece of the necklace’s stonework shaped like a crescent moon. I hadn’t recognized it as anything more than ornamentation, but now, comparing the photo to what I’d just seen on Grace, the truth was obvious.

Grace had part of the seal. It was the left side of the medallion, separated in an irregular way to give it that fanciful crescent shape. But I’d seen the fine etchings of the symbols when she tilted her head. They were the same. It was the seal.

The picture fell from my hands, and I ran back to the living room, grappling for my cell phone. My hands shook, and I could barely dial. Of course, for a second, I wasn’t sure who I was dialing. Hugh, I decided. I had to tell him and the rest of my friends that—

“Drop it.”

A strong hand covered my mouth and jerked me backward. My back hit somebody, a tall man with a rock-solid chest. His other hand reached out and wrapped around my wrist, making the links of my watch dig in painfully.

“Drop it,” he said. “I know what you saw. I saw it too. But you can’t tell anyone. Not yet.”

I could barely hear through the pounding of my heart in my ears, but it didn’t matter. I knew this voice, knew it intimately. It had haunted my dreams—or rather, my nightmares—for the last six months. It was a sign of how truly out of it I’d been after Nanette attacked me that I hadn’t recognized his voice that day.

I dropped the phone.

He released his grip on my wrist, and a moment later, the hand on my mouth moved away as well. Miraculously, I didn’t start screaming. Slowly, slowly, I turned around, knowing exactly what I’d find. Blue-green eyes, just like the sea I’d grown up around.

“Roman.”

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

There was really only one thing I could say.

“You’re here to kill me.”

That would have been a great cue for him to say something like, “No, of course not” or “Why would you think that?” Any of those responses, or a variation, would have been immensely reassuring.

Instead he said: “Not yet.”

“Shit.”