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enough incentive, he would have no qualms in doing so.
    The only thing that might possibly stop him would be potential fallout from his actions, which meant political power, not magical Power. It had to become more uncomfortable for Malphas to pursue her than it would be to let her go, and that was what a position with Xavier might offer.
    She was under no illusion about herself. As a lowly attendant, she wouldn’t have much value to anyone, but if Malphas attacked her while she was under Xavier’s roof, it would become a transgression of territory.
    And that would matter. That might matter so much it could become an act of war.
    Xavier was so highly placed in the Nightkind demesne that even a first-generation, outlaw Djinn would have to think twice about making him an enemy. The Djinn might turn a blind eye to Malphas now, but an official complaint from the Nightkind demesne could change their attitude.
    Beyond the safety railings of the Golden Gate Bridge, the black waters of the bay glittered with reflected illumination. When she finished crossing the bridge, she looked for a late-night restaurant and a gas station.
    Very soon, she found a 1950s-style diner located across from a gas station. After pumping twenty dollars of fuel into her tank, she crossed the street and entered the restaurant.
    The place gleamed with chrome and bright colors. She took a seat, ordered coffee and watched out the window until pale streaks of color broke through the black cloudy night.
    She felt hollow and light, her nerves jumping from too much caffeine and not enough choices.
    Even after spending hours trying to think of another alternative, she knew she couldn’t afford to turn down this opportunity. Just the fact that she had landed the position—or at least the possibility of a permanent position—was like winning some kind of infernal lottery.
    What would it be like to give blood to a Vampyre?
    A Vampyre’s bite was supposed to induce euphoria for the human, but the very thought repelled her. That sense of euphoria was nature’s way of lulling the victim into compliance, even to the point of death.
    Vampyres were predators that fed on humans and viewed humankind as prey. Only the sheer numbers of humankind, along with all the other Elder Races, served to keep Vampyres in check and forced them to create laws that governed their own kind. There was nothing sexy or enticing at the thought of being considered food. She shuddered at the thought.
    Finally she paid for her cup of coffee, thanked her patient waitress and left all of her change on the table for an inadequate tip. Her eyes were dry and scratchy, and her body ached. Stretching, she climbed into her car and headed for Rodeo Beach, just a few miles away.
    Along with the money she couldn’t access in her bank accounts, she had left behind comfortable, good quality furniture and what few mementos she owned in a spacious, stylish apartment. Now, for any practical purposes, everything she owned was in her car, a jumble of hastily packed clothes, and odds and ends.
    One thing she had grabbed as she left home was a thick, soft throw blanket, since she knew she would be sleeping in her car. After pulling into the parking lot near the beach, she retrieved the throw and headed down the path to look for a likely spot to relax.
    By the water, the world was wild and windswept. She could just see the tip of Evenfall, the palace of the Nightkind King, which was one of California’s great architectural oddities. The massive Normandy-style castle sprawled prominently along the southwestern coast of the peninsula. The blues of the ocean stretched into infinity, while the green shoreline curved up to gently rolling hills that had been molded over time.
    The threat of imminent rain had fled along with the night, leaving behind an uncertain, moody morning. A fresh, piercing wind blew away the cobwebs that had gathered in her head. After living in the desert for two