“Let me go!” Sophie tried to kick out at the man holding her, but his grip on her arms tightened and she suddenly grew frightened. Even the Witch of Endor was wary of Aoife of the Shadows. The vampire turned Sophie’s wrist painfully and bent forward to examine the tattoo. “This is the work of a master. Who gave you this… gift?” Her lips curled in disgust as she said the word.

Sophie pressed her lips together. She wasn’t telling this woman anything.

Aoife’s glasses slipped down her nose, revealing eyes that were like chips of green glass. “Maui… Prometheus… Xolotl… Pele… Agni…” Aoife shook her head quickly. “No, none of those. You have just returned from Paris, so it is someone in that city…” Her voice trailed away. She looked over Sophie’s shoulder at the black-suited driver. “Is there a Master of Fire in the French capital?”

“Your old adversary, the count, lives there,” the man said softly in English.

“Saint-Germain,” Aoife snapped. She saw Sophie’s eyes widen and she smiled savagely. “Saint-Germain the liar. Saint-Germain the thief. I should have killed him when I had the chance.” She looked at the driver. “Take her. We will continue this conversation in private.”

Sophie opened her mouth to scream, but Aoife pressed her forefinger to the bridge of the girl’s nose. The vampire’s gray aura leaked from her fingers, the smoke curling around the girl’s head, seeping into her nostrils and mouth.

Sophie tried to bring her own aura alight. It crackled faintly about her body for a single heartbeat before she slumped unconscious.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR

Agnes hit a speed-dial number on the phone and handed it to Josh. “You speak to your parents, right now,” she ordered. “And where is Sophie? Who is that girl she’s talking to outside?”

“The sister of someone we know,” Josh said, pressing the phone to the side of his face. The line rang only once before it was answered.

“Agnes?”

“Dad! It’s Josh.”

“Josh!”

The boy found himself smiling-the relief in his father’s voice was clearly audible-and then a wave of embarrassment washed over him and he felt guilty for not getting in touch with his parents sooner.

“Is everything all right?” Richard Newman’s voice was almost lost in a crackle of burbling static.

Josh pressed his finger to his ear and concentrated hard on the sounds. “Everything is fine, Dad. We’re OK. We just got back to San Francisco.”

“Your mother and I were starting to get worried about you. Seriously worried.”

“We were with the Fla-Flemings,” Josh quickly corrected himself. “There was no cell-phone reception,” he added truthfully, “though we did manage to get your e-mail on Sunday night. I got the jpeg of the shark teeth. I didn’t recognize the type, but from the size, I’m guessing a freshwater shark?” he asked quickly, deliberately changing the subject.