He was afraid.

"Carlo! We will read this in the morning!" he insisted, and leaving his associate behind, he hurried along the trail to the camp, and the place where the lights burned.

Stephanie was baffled. She had assumed that they would reach Grant's car, realize that she wasn't with them, and wait.

Or come after her, one or the other. She had even expected Grant to be angry, but she had intended to deal with that—it had seemed very important to her to speak with Dr. Antinella.

But they were nowhere to be seen, and Grant's car was still in the parking lot.

She hesitated, then remembered her cell phone, pulled it out, and dialed Grant's number. She got his answering machine. She hung up.

The resort was a short drive, and no more than a twenty-minute walk. With nothing left to do at the hospital, she decided that she might as well head back. She'd find Lena and Suzette.

As she walked, she mused that Jade had told them that they should continue to refer to her and Lucien as Liz and Clay. Now, Stephanie wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Too many things seemed to be happening too quickly. At least, among the group of them, she thought that the truth should be out. If it was truth…

There she went again! Did she really believe all this?

She quickened her pace, noticing that the afternoon was already waning. She suddenly decided that it was imperative to reach the other girls before dusk.

The streets seemed to be oddly deserted. She remembered that today was Maria Britto's funeral, and thought that most of the people in the town would be attending it.

At last, she saw the resort ahead of her. She exhaled a sigh of relief. She hadn't realized just how uneasy she had gotten, following the road back toward the beach and the resort.

She walked through the reception area. It was empty. She exited the rear, and then paused.

There was already a wind blowing. Clouds were beginning to obscure what was left of the sun.

There was no one on the beach.

She started along the path that would bring her to Lena's cottage. As she walked along, she was startled when Giovanni suddenly came around from one of the other little places.

"Miss Cahill!" he said, pleased. "I've been looking for you."

"Oh? Why? What's up?"

"Reggie is here—she wants to see you," he told her.

Instantly, she felt a guard rise around her. She shook her head. "Giovanni, I spoke with Reggie just a few hours ago. She was in Belgium, and she said she still had some business to attend to."

"You have a cell phone?" he said. "Call her. She is here."

"If she's here, why doesn't she just come to me?" Stephanie said.

He sighed. "I told her that you would not believe me. Please, call her. She is here."

"She got a plane out of Belgium and got here this quickly?" Stephanie said. She felt a growing unease.

But it was still daytime—surely that meant something. And they were out in the open—even if it seemed that no one was about. But he had to be lying about Reggie.

"Call her, please." He sighed, then lifted his hands and grinned. "I just work for Reggie," he said. He gave her a rueful, charming smile, and brushed a curl of dark hair from his forehead. The he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I will just tell her that you won't come. It's all right. She'll have to come to you."

"Yes, she'll have to," Stephanie said.

With another shrug, he started to walk off.

"Wait. I'll call her."

Stephanie pulled out her phone and dialed Reggie's number. Reggie answered instantly. "Stephanie?"

"Yes. Reggie, what's going on here? Giovanni is telling me you want to see me. I told him you were in Belgium."

"Oh, Stephanie, I lied. I'm here, I've been here. After we hung up, I knew I just couldn't lie to you anymore. But there are so many awful things being said about me… I've been keeping a low profile. I feel I have to see you and explain. I'm so sorry. Will you come to me? I don't want others to know I'm here—not until they can get some answers to the terrible things that are happening!"

It was definitely Reggie. And she sounded so upset.

"Where are you?"

"Giovanni can bring you to me," Reggie said.

Stephanie reminded herself that she had known Reggie for years, that she hadn't popped out of the ground at any dig. Still, she intended to be careful.

"Reggie, try to understand. No one in the theater group is angry with you. I was just going to stop in and see Lena and Suzette. Why don't you meet me there?"

"No, Stephanie," Reggie protested. "Just—"

"That's where I'll be, Reggie," Stephanie said firmly.

She looked at Giovanni, who just shrugged. "I have done my job," he said, and giving her a wave, he started walking toward the resort.

Stephanie hurried to Lena's cottage.

When she got there and knocked on the door, she was startled as it opened when she rapped.

Opened…

Creaked inward.

Cautiously, she stuck her head in. "Lena? Suzette?"

"Steph!" Lena called. "Come in."

She did.

It was dark inside. She blinked against the change of light.

Then she saw the two of them—and the scene in the living room area.

She stopped dead still in horror.

She started to back away.

But behind her, the doorway was now blocked.

"Oh, no, Stephanie. You're staying!" she was told.

She recognized the voice, but turning back to the light, she was blinded. There was a tall, large form there, hands on hips.

Then she knew.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"It's time," he said simply.

Chapter 17

Maria Britto was laid to rest with a great deal of ceremony.

As they stood in the background, Arturo came around behind Grant and spoke softly. "Here, you see, she is in the hallowed ground. Beyond there… the small stone fence, there is where those who have died outside the church have gone. The priest has sprinkled holy water around the entire circumference of the grave, and before the dirt is thrown over the coffin, the great cross there will go over the length of it."

"I see, thank you," Grant whispered in return.

He noted that, bit by bit, most of the town had arrived. Merc and Franco had apparently ended their questioning of hospital employees, because they were there, together as usual, more like an eternal pair of twins rather than a father and son.

Dr. Antinella had arrived as well. Grant recognized people from the cafés, the shops, the hospital, and even the dig. Carlo Ponti was there, along with two of his closest associates, the German forensic anthropologist Heinrich Gutten and the French historian Jacques Perdot.

The person who was not with them, he realized suddenly, was Stephanie.

He backed up to where Jade was standing. "Where's Steph?"

Jade turned around, looking through the crowd. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Doug, Drew," Grant said, looking back, behind Jade. Drew was there; Doug was not. "Where's Stephanie—and Doug?"

"Doug… I don't know!" Drew said, looking around, frowning. "He was with me until we reached the gates… and Steph… she was with us when we were leaving the hospital."

Grant backed away, a feeling of urgency coming over him as he searched the crowd anxiously.

She definitely wasn't with him.

"I have to find Stephanie," he said to Drew. Turning quickly, he started to head out the cemetery gates.

Jade ran after him. "She must be back at the hospital."

"Why? Even Antinella, the cops, and the hospital staff are here," he said, his concern growing.

With Jade and Drew following behind him, Grant hurried on with long strides. But at the cemetery gates, he stopped.

The old man was standing there. Now, he was carrying a huge sword. It was a double-handed battle sword.

Grant thought the man intended to swing it.

But the fellow looked at him and began speaking earnestly. He didn't appear to be insane, nor was he as wild as he had been before, in Doug's hospital room.

He offered the sword to Grant, his words rapid, intent, and insistent.

"He wants you to take it. He says that you're going to need it," Jade said.

"I can't take that from him!" Grant protested. "It looks… if it's not original, it's a damned good copy."

" Grazie, grazie, ma no!" Grant said to the man.

The old fellow shook his head, and blocked the exit again.

"Take it from him!" Jade advised.

Unless he wanted to knock the man out of the way—or risk his temper and cause him to use it—Grant could see no alternative. He looked back. Many at the funeral were now watching him. They didn't seem to think it odd that the man was offering him a sword. They looked on with mild interest.

The man said something in Italian that Grant couldn't catch.

"He says that the time has come," Jade translated softly.

"What time?"

"The time when you're going to need the sword, I believe," she said.

Grant accepted the blade, thanking the old man again. The fellow stepped out of his way, nodding gravely.

The funeral-goers turned back to heed the words of the priest.

The entire area suddenly seemed to darken. Grant looked at the sky. It was growing late. Dusk was coming. And quickly.

He started to run toward the hospital.

"Grant, wait!" Jade called.

Irritated, he looked back.

"It's… too late. Can't you see, can't you tell?" She shook her head, indicating the sky. "He has her," she said softly.

Suspicion raged in him. Who had her? Had Jade been dogging him to keep him from realizing that Lucien was the real threat?

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded raggedly. " Who has her? Your so-called vampire husband?"