One Crossroads Later

Chapter Nine

She had given Flynn a list to memorize early on, while still practicing his craft on smaller targets. Each of the seven covens lay in a different portion of Philadelphia, with Sabrina's lying the closest to another coven. Robin had once explained that this had been the larger concern when Sabrina had first founded her coven. Too many vampires meant too much overlapping territory, which left them vulnerable to being exposed. Sabrina had seen a slight where pragmatism might have explained everything.

Because of it, she forced Flynn to be an apt pupil.

Few people paid attention to him on the subway. Everyone traveling at that hour knew to keep to themselves, which ensured nobody would see him armed, nor ask why he carried the weapons he did. Enough of them probably had their own hidden somewhere, and the rest steered clear of raising their ire. After changing subway lines, Flynn emerged in West Philadelphia unscathed and unquestioned.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk, though, his senses told him something might have followed him from the train. He couldn't spot them at first and though they stayed hidden, they couldn't conceal their presence completely. Let you think I don't know about you, Flynn thought, producing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. He kept his gait casual, but his ears attuned to the surrounding area.

They didn't engage him. And they'd almost become an afterthought at the point where Patricia McCarthy's coven house came into view. Similar fences and gates framed the acreage, resembling the one Sabrina had established. He'd gotten close enough to see figures in the windows when his senses piqued again.

This time, he couldn't convince himself they might be a figment of his imagination. Whoever they were, they had gotten closer than they'd dared to get all night. After tossing his spent cigarette onto the concrete and stomping it out with his boot, Flynn took a better look at the neighborhood surrounding him.

In a city full of people. Of course, someone's seen you.

"Yes, but at this hour?" he murmured, answering himself. And it didn't feel like the gaze of an idle human. The premonition made him concerned enough that he stepped away from the street, wandering closer to where he felt the source. Each step along the way, he waited for a rodent or an ordinary person to prove him paranoid, but as he walked deeper into a quiet neighborhood block, the shadows played off the streetlights in odd ways.

He hadn't ever seen anything like it before.

Their normal brightness faded, and a mist rolled down the street that made seeing anything difficult. Instinctively, Flynn reached for one of his knives, pulling it out and glancing around for whatever had resorted to magic tricks. "I have work to do that you're keeping me from," Flynn said, spinning to look behind him. "And the longer you keep this up, the angrier I'm going to be."

"Wouldn't want that," a female voice responded from somewhere nearby. The mist seemed to get thicker, and as much as he tried, he couldn't even make out a silhouette. "How about you and I talk, and you can tell me to go to hell if you don't like what I say?"

"Too late. Is this where I tell you to go to hell?"

"Naw, you're not even giving me a chance." Flynn heard a shoe scuff against the pavement and turned in the sound's direction. "What did she do, Flynn? Did she give you someone else to kill?"

"How can you pretend to know anything about that?"

"Oh, I know a lot of things. Can tell you more about them if you lower the knife."

"If you won't leave me alone, then I'll have to force you to go away." He squinted and finally made out a figure standing on the other side of the street. As he did, a smirk crossed his lips. "Nice attempt, though, to intimidate me."