"So you talked to her, made her feel welcome."

"Bobby didn't need help mingling. She's quiet – compared to me – but she's great at making small talk. Gotta be, in her job. These girls we were sitting with, though? They only knew two kinds of small talk. Gossip and snark. Now, if you want to engage in a serious conversation about the propriety of the groom's stepmother wearing a leather miniskirt to the wedding, Bobby's your girl. But sniping and backbiting? No. That was the first thing that got my attention – the way she handled it. Most people would have joined in just to be included. Bobby tried, very politely, to steer the conversation in more constructive directions. When that failed, she backed out."

"And talked to you."

Damon's smile burst into a grin. "By that point, I was the one doing the initiating. I asked about her job, she asked about mine. Few things kill a girl's interest faster than 'I'm a junior high math teacher,' and I came this close to mentioning my band gig instead. But I could tell that wouldn't fly with Bobby. So I told the truth, and she was cool with it. Interested even. We got talking so much, I didn't notice when dessert was served, which, for me, is a miracle."

He paused, as if watching the movie in his head, one he'd replayed so many times he could mouth along with the words.

"And that was it then," Finn said. "You asked her out."

"Wasn't quite that easy. We were both seeing other people. For me, that other relationship was over before the meal was. Robyn had to be convinced, and that wasn't easy when she wouldn't even have coffee with me while she was involved with another guy."

Finn liked that. It supported the picture he was forming of Robyn Peltier as someone principled and honest, someone he could work with and help… if only he got the chance.

"You ever read The Godfather?" Damon asked.

It took a moment for Finn to slide back from his thoughts. "Seen the movie."

Damon's eyes rolled up in thought. "Not sure if it's in the movie. I read the book when I was young. There's this part where Michael Corleone meets his first fiancée, in Sicily, and this old guy says Michael was hit by the thunderbolt. I remember rolling my eyes at that. Really schmaltzy, like something from a bad romance novel. But the night my sister got married, I understood what it meant. Sounds corny as hell, but it's true. You can meet someone and, bam, it's like being hit by a thunderbolt."

"Love at first sight."

"Mmm, I guess so. But that always sounds so… passive. It's not like that at all. It wakes you up with a jolt and you know your life is never going to be the same. Say what you will about fate and that metaphysical shit, but I don't think our meeting was a coincidence, us sitting together, alone, our significant others unable to attend. Me and Bobby, it just… works, you know? We have something." He paused. "Had something." Another pause, then Damon looked out the window. After a moment, his fingers returned to the armrest, silently drumming.

The accidental dropping of his gun had seemed almost a stroke of good luck. As the security guard bore down on him, gun at the ready, Colm had seen his escape route – the final release every kumpania child was taught to take if he was ever cornered by a Cabal. All he had to do was reach for the fallen gun and the guard would free him.

But the Cabal man hadn't been about to let that happen. And when he distracted the guard, giving Colm a chance to escape, he'd taken it.

He hurried around the rear corner. No sign of Adele. That was okay – she'd be hidden ahead, trusting he had everything under control.

He slowed, thinking of how he could slant the events to favor him without downplaying the danger. When he had his story ready, he picked up his pace and looked behind the bin where Adele was supposed to wait.

She wasn't there.

Disappointment and dread prickled under his skin, and he stamped his feet, shaking it off. He had to focus. So she wasn't here. Big deal. He'd been gone a long time and she must have set out to see what was wrong.

But why not just call him?

Her cell phone must be broken, which is why he couldn't get through. Or maybe his was. If it came from Robyn and Robyn was with the Cabal, then he shouldn't be using it at all. Maybe Robyn had planted a trace in it. That would explain how they'd known he was in the bookstore.

He took out the cell phone and pitched it against the wall. It didn't break, but made a satisfying crack. He kicked it under a bin. Then he strode back around the building to find Adele.

Colm climbed the fence behind the store, dropped to the other side and huddled there, knees clasped to his chest, his back to the fence, gaze darting side to side, knowing he wouldn't see anyone, but looking anyway.

He'd circled the store and weaved through the parking lot looking for her, one eye always fixed on the store doors. There was a police car in the lot, meaning officers were inside. When they'd come out, he'd hid between two minivans, then balled up his nerve and tailed a group of kids his age into the store. Adele hadn't been in there either.

He'd found a pay phone and tried her cell, but got that same "unavailable" message. He'd even tried catching a vision of her. He knew he couldn't – clairvoyant powers didn't work on one another – but he'd hoped their connection, their love, might help him past that barrier. It hadn't.

He couldn't find her. And he couldn't find any of the others – Robyn, the pretty Indian girl, her boyfriend or the ball-cap-wearing man. That could only mean one thing: they'd taken Adele.

That's why they hadn't chased him. He was just a boy, coming into his powers. Adele was a trained clairvoyant, her powers proven. She was their only target.

The incident in the store had been staged. Robyn led him to the pretty girl, making him realize something was wrong, making him worry. Then the man called his name, sending the worry into full panic, distracting him while the girl's superhuman boyfriend snatched Adele outside.

He had to call the kumpania.

But what if he was wrong? What if Adele was looking for him? And if Niko learned she'd been targeted by a Cabal and had said nothing, leaving the entire kumpania exposed…

Colm rubbed his hands against his jeans to clear the images from his head. Niko wouldn't kill Adele, no matter what kumpania law said. He'd give her another chance. He had to. Colm couldn't bear to think -

He rubbed harder, the rough seam scraping his palms, skin burning from the friction.

Why hadn't she told Niko from the start? By not admitting it, she'd only made the situation worse and now he was stuck making decisions he should never have to make.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, exhaling slowly. He'd make one more round of the parking lot and store, and then he'd call his mother. If Adele didn't like that, too bad. Saving her from the Cabal was all that mattered.

He hefted himself up onto the wooden fence, a simple sound barrier that wobbled under his weight. He made it to the top when a slender, light-haired woman rounded the bookstore back corner.

Adele's name sprang to his lips. Then the woman stepped from the shadow, shading her eyes to look up at him on the fence, and he saw it was Robyn Peltier.

He twisted to scramble back down.

"Wait!" she called. "We need to talk to you."

He leapt from the fence. One knee buckled as he landed, and he fell on all fours. A shadow passed over him. He looked up to see the man from the apartment vaulting the fence.