GUILT GOT ME HERE. BUT ONCE WE'RE SEATED in uncomfortable silence around Williams ' desk, I'm reminded of my conversation last night with Lance-and what happened after. I smile, letting some of the good stuff through.

"My boyfriend says hello."

Williams acts like he doesn't hear me, but the coil of his antipathy tightens. He pretends to ignore me, shuffling papers around his desk as if searching for one in particular, but a muscle at the base of his jaw jumps, betraying his agitation.

After another minute of thumbing through the piles on his desk, he finds what he's looking for and shoves a sheet toward me.

The first thing I notice is the letterhead: "SDPD Headquarters." Then, in bold letters: "Internal Memo."

I glance over at him. Are you supposed to have this?

Again no reply, concentration focused instead on arranging the discarded papers he'd shoved aside in search of the one I'm holding.

I take that as a no.

His mind is shut so tight, his jaw muscles strain with the effort.

That must hurt.

I barely suppress a smile as I start reading.

The memo is the summation of three police reports filed during the last twenty -four hours. Both involve males attacked by females who cut their victims with knives and suck at the wounds. The men describe their attackers as in their early thirties, attractive, seductive. Not the same woman, though the MO is the same in all three cases. The men meet the women in bars, the women agree to go home with them but instead of engaging in sexual activity, the women attack. They don't appear to want to kill their victims, the wounds are superficial, on the arms or legs, and the men easily subdue the women once they get over the shock. The women seem to just want to suck their blood. All three women have managed to escape before the police arrive.

Weird, I say, handing the report back to Williams. They're obviously not vampires. Newly made vampires are still stronger than the strongest human. I pause a second before adding, Are you getting information from Ortiz?

Ortiz is a vampire. Also, a member of San Diego's finest. He worked for Williams before the shake-up.

He nods. Ortiz is keeping me in the loop. He's assistant to the new acting police chief. Gives him access to information pertinent to our community.

A hint of wistfulness comes through. He misses his job. I wish I could muster some sympathy.

Instead, I gesture to the report.

Sounds like a weird cult to me. No one has been killed. No one has been seriously hurt. So why is this important to the community?

I'm not sure.

Three words I never thought I'd hear from the supreme know-it-all. He tents his fingers on the desk in a deliberately casual movement and looks at me.

And looks at me . . . until I get it. This is the favor he wants in return for lending me the witches.

So what do you want me to do? Work with Ortiz? Question these guys again? What can I find out that the police haven't?

A shrug. I don't know. You fancy yourself a smart cookie. Come up with an angle. All three victims have been picked up in bars around the Gaslamp district. You know the area. Maybe you can stake it out, catch one of these women in the act. Find out what the game is. Between real vamp corpses showing up and these wannabes out there attacking men, it won't be long before the Revengers involve themselves. We don't need that.

Especially if the Revengers get it in their heads that one of these human women is a vampire and decide to take her out. Killing a mortal would bring the worst kind of attention-to them and to us. Still-

I can't promise to do anything until I know Culebra is safe.

Agreed.

I stare at him. Too quick.

There's a knock on the door.

Ariel pokes her head in. "We have a location," she says.

I'm on my feet before she's finished the sentence.

Williams and I follow her back to the room. The table has been pushed to one side, a pentagram chalked on the floor. Crystals wink from each of the star's five points. In the middle, three candles burn. Under the candles, a map is laid out.

It's a detailed map of the city.

"She's in San Diego?" I ask.

Susan points to a tiny diamond on the end of a silken rope. The gem rests on a street in National City, a suburb to the south of San Diego.

"How could you-?"

Min smiles. "We started out with a bigger area," she says. "A map of the U.S. Working such a powerful spell would require proximity.

When we were shown the way, a map of California. Finally, the energy led us right here. She's close."

She hands me a piece of paper with an address written in neat script. "But I must warn you, Anna, the same energy that led us to her location may have warned her that she was being sought."

My thoughts jump to Frey. "I have a friend who is working his own spell to counteract Burke's magic. What happens if Burke becomes aware of our interference?"

The three exchange anxious looks. Min speaks first. "He is in danger," she says shortly. "The sooner you find and deal with Burke the better."

Ariel holds something out to me on the palm of her hand. "Wear this."

I hold it up. It's a charm, a filigree ball, on a silver chain. Light reflects off the surface like sparks from a pinwheel. "What does it do?"

"It's an amulet. For protection and guidance." She helps me slip it over my head. "It will tell you when you are close."

"How?"

"You'll know."

I drop the charm inside my shirt, between my breasts. It's warm where it touches my skin.

"Don't take it off," Susan says. The seriousness in her eyes is mirrored in the expressions of the other two. "Promise us."

I don't believe in charms but neither did I believe in vampires until about nine months ago. Besides, what could it hurt?

"Sure," I reply. "Promise."